expected to do, the probability that all the islanders were once one people, and possibly, also, derived at some very remote period, from the distant continents of Asia or America.

If these separate lines of research can be shewn to be convergent, it is hoped that some conclusions more or less definite, may be obtained as to the real ancestry of the native population of New Zealand.

To take, then,—

(1.)Their own Traditions.

Now, here, it is interesting to see that a very general uniformity prevails among the legends of all the tribes, the testimony they offer, being, for the most part, that their ancestors found their way to New Zealand from the North or North-East, in certain canoes, the names of which have been preserved; there being also, in the island still existing families, who assert of themselves, that they are lineal descendents of the first immigrants. Some of the natives, I should add, however, believe that they came from the Chatham Islands, the land, geographically, the nearest to New Zealand; but, by far the most prevailing tradition is, that their original ancestral home was Hawaiki, a name, the real or probable meaning of which, I shall fully consider in the later pages of this paper.

Now, if the genealogies of the chiefs can be trusted (and, certainly,a priori, there seems no reason for doubting their substantial accuracy), the existing population has occupied these islands but little more than 500 years; while, there would, also, at the same time, seem to be no reliable evidence, that there were any other people settled in them previously, although Mr. Colenso^* and some other writers, have warmly advocated the view, that there had been an earlier race there, during a period no man can guess how many ages ago. I think it may be further conjectured that the whole number of original comers was not large, a fact, indeed, we should expect, as they had, in any case, to traverse a considerable breadth of ocean before they could reach these islands: moreover, their method of colonization, by separating into different tribes and families (so as to form distinct settlements, at considerable distances apart the one from the other), agreeing as this does with Captain Cook's account of them, 100 years ago, suggests, also, the probability, that occupation was by successive waves of immigrants, no one of these, most likely, having been very numerous.

There are many anecdotes in their various legends of their first advent to New Zealand, which seem to me to bear the stamp of truth upon them: thus, the story of their finding, at two different places, a sperm whale

stranded, is just the sort of incident which would be remembered by an unlettered but observant people, while the further statement that one of the chiefs was so pleased with the beauty of the rata, then in full bloom, that he cast aside the red feathers he was wearing in his head-dress, to don, instead, a circlet of its flowers, is a perfectly natural act, but one, too, which would hardly have been thought of, for the purpose of record, had it not actually occurred. This legend has this further value, that it shows that the arrival of the Maoris must have been in the middle of summer, when the rata is in flower. I confess I don't see any reason why this story should not be accepted in favour of the Maori immigrants, just as readily as the notice, in the “Antiquitates Americanæ,” of the number of hours the sun was above the horizon on the shortest day in “Vinland” (i. e. Narraganset) proving as this observation does, the latitude of the country discovered by the old Icelandic voyagers to the West. ^*

Indeed the long persistency of the Maori traditions and their striking similarity, naturally gives much support to our belief in their general truth; while, unless the conviction of their solid foundation had been fully present to the native mind, we could have hardly conceived the possibility of what is nevertheless literally true, that, only about twenty-five years ago, a family at Tauranga fitted out and provisioned a canoe for the purpose of visiting the homes of their ancestors; ^† and, more than this, that this is not the only instance in which similar schemes have been entertained and in part carried out. To have thought of such a thing at all, especially as they could have had no definite idea of the direction in which they ought to steer their vessel, proves the vitality of their belief in their traditions, and shows withal no little daring and love of adventure; for the smaller canoes, now or recently in use in New Zealand, could hardly have withstood the billows of the ocean, as did the great double canoes described by Tasman in 1642.

It is a popular idea that ignorance of writing tells with fatal effect against the preservation of early traditions: yet it is certain that there is scarcely any limit to the power of memory when exercised on one or a

few subjects only. Everyone knows how an illiterate herdsman will recall at once every little peculiarity of each member of a large herd entrusted to his care, though, at first sight, scarcely anything would seem more difficult in individualizing than the ordinary sheep of a large flock. Again, in all the early and rude states of society, abundant songs and tales of the people are found to have been invariably preserved by the people, ages before any form of writing had been invented: while, we know that, in highly civilized India, where letters were, practically, unknown, even three centuries before the Christian era, the whole of the Sanskrit Vědas, as well as many of the most important commentaries on them, were preserved in the memories of members of the different Brahmanic colleges, whose pride was enlisted in the accurate recollection of the most minute modifications of the sounds and letters of individual words. To maintain the absolute invariabity of these Hymns was the business of their life; and their memories were not distracted by attention to anything else.

In the case of the New Zealander, while the demands on his powers of memory were infinitely less, we have reason to believe that his Tohungas, or priests, continued constantly repeating these legends, one from the other, and, no doubt, generally, in the same words. ^* It is not necessary to take these tales for more than they are worth, nor do I wish to claim for them a solid historical basis; but I have as much confidence in them as in the early legends of Greece and Rome, some of which, especially in the case of Rome, are now seen to have had a far more real foundation, than the sceptical historians of the early part of this century were willing to admit. There is nothing, indeed, in the nature of the case, against the probability, that the Maori stories do rest on ultimate facts. Many circumstances, and not the least of these, the admitted fact that the New Zealand chiefs (as was the case, also, in other islands) were, even in life, held to have a quasi-superhuman character, have thrown their mythology into inextricable confusion; but, even, allowing the probability that, as suggested before, some local colourings may have been engrafted on the answers given to the first questions propounded to the Maoris by the missionaries or early settlers, ^† it does not follow that there was no

truth at all at the bottom of the system recorded, or that the natives did not really believe in a Chief God or Creator, Tangaroa or Tane, with so much of religion, as consists in the recognition of the dependency of the human mind on some presumed higher or more powerful Being. ^*

I have mentioned the traditions current with respect to the first arrival of the Maoris; but they have also others scarcely less important: for instance, the tribes state, universally, that they were once one people, a statement apparently well confirmed by what can even now be seen; moreover, language, in this instance, may be trusted as a faithful witness. The speech of these Islanders is clearly one and the same; and, though some differences of dialect occur (Mr. Colenso makes ten such varieties; Mr. Shortland six), it is certain the differences between the dialects of the North and South Island are not so great as between Yorkshire and Somersetshire at the present time. Nor, does there seem to me, the slightest ground for supposing them autochthones; the more so, that the only plants they originally cultivated are exotics and their only domestic animal not indigenous. These, therefore, if as we suppose, they found these Islands uninhabited, they must have brought with them whencesoever they came. Another argument in favour of the great antiquity in New Zealand of the present people has been urged on the ground of the presumed long time it must have taken the Maoris to manufacture their most valuable ornaments, hatchets, adzes, spear-heads, etc., in Jade, or other hard and costly materials: and, in this argument there certainly would have been some force, were it certain that either these instruments, themselves, or the substances of which they are made, are found only in New Zealand: on the contrary, however, it is now certain that plenty of highly wrought ornaments of a similar character may be met with in other islands of the Pacific; the presumption being, as well as the strong and natural probability, that if the execution of such works be as difficult, or of the ancient date pretended, the Maoris brought them with them when they first settled in New Zealand. I believe, however, as a matter of fact that these implements do not require for their manufacture, anything like the time suggested by Mr. Colenso. Again,

though there is no doubt that the Middle Island is rich in a kind of Jade, or greenstone, which the Maoris prize highly, it is, by no means, the only place where this mineral is found. ^* Nor, indeed, do I see, in the writings of any of those persons, who, disbelieving the traditions of the natives, consider them of remote antiquity, ^† if not, autochthones, any proof, whatever, that the present people differ, in any essential respect, whether of manners or habits, from what has been discovered about the presumed elder races. Yet this would seem to be a matter it is incumbent on these theorists to prove. ^‡ Nor, and this is a more important point, in that it connects the Maoris more or less with their famous extinct bird, the Moa, can I say I have any more faith, in the arguments adduced to show that the Moa-hunters, the population that is, who were the chief agents in the destruction of the Dinornis, were themselves of a period so ancient as to have been contemporary, as has been suggested, with the great European mammals of the Post-Pleiocene period; still less that they dwelt in these Islands so long ago that it may well be doubted whether they have any connection with the present people. It is right, however, to add that, on this particular subject, there is no actual agreement among the holders of these extreme views, as some maintain, like Dr. Haast, that the existing Maoris are descendants of these supposed most ancient Moa-hunters, while others deny this.^sect; Now it has, of late years, been held, with tolerable unanimity, by European ethnologists, that the time of man's existence on the earth admits of division into four principal periods, called, respectively, the Palæolithic, Neolithic, Bronze and Iron Ages, and that the two first periods are marked, definitely, by the use, in the first, of rudely chipped flints and stone implements, and, in the second, by that of materials of the same kind, but, generally exhibiting considerable polish and much skilful and elaborate workmanship,—At the same time, it is tolerably certain that these divisions cannot be drawn with a hard and sharp line, the two classes

having, in many instances, overlapped: thus, rude and finely worked specimens have been, occasionally, found even in Europe so placed as to imply their use by the same population simultaneously. On the supposition, however, that the Palæolithic and Neolithic periods are sufficiently well marked for ordinary purposes of comparison, and bearing in mind that rude as well as polished instruments of stone have been abundantly found in New Zealand, it has been assumed that the people who made and used the former and rudest of them must have belonged to those remote periods; in other words, that there must have been here, as it seems most likely there was once in Europe, a race of men contemporary with the Post-Pleiocene or Mammoth Period. The main argument in favour of this theory rests on the further supposition that all the Moa bones are those of birds extinct for ages, a large number of these remains having been met with in close connection with the flint weapons whereby they were probably slain or cut up. Now, if this be so, it has been further not unreasonably urged that the hunters of the birds must have been contemporaneous with the weapons they used. I ought to add that, with the bones, have been also found a great quantity of the shells of their eggs, as well as the ovens in which they were cooked.

Now, no doubt, this theory had a certain consistency so long as it was supposed that most of the bones of the Moas had been found at a depth of many feet under the surface soil, implying, as this circumstance, naturally did, a long lapse of time, since the birds themselves were actually alive on the plains of New Zealand: it was, moreover, asserted that the present people have no traditions of the existence of the bird, which they could not possibly have forgotten. On this point, however, it would seem quite sufficient to remark that the absence of any direct allusion to the Moa in the songs or traditions of the Maoris may just as well have arisen from the probable fact that they were really so familiar with the existence of it, that it would naturally have no place in their traditional lore; while, for the same reason, it would have had none of that peculiar fame among the natives, which the discovery of its remains has aroused among European philosophers. While it lived, the abundant relics of it recently met with shew clearly enough that it could not have been at all rare; and when it perished, perhaps, not very long before the present generation, it simply ceased to be talked about. In making this statement, however, I must not be supposed to deny that Moa bones of considerable antiquity do, from time to time, turn up; I only affirm that that they have not remained long enough in the soil to lose all their albumen and to have been thus converted into true fossils.

Two other views have been put forth, each of which has had its adherents and must, therefore, be noticed here: according to the first, it has been suggested that, had any Moas existed in what may be called “Modern” times, some of the earlier European navigators, as for instance, Captain Cook, ^* who, during his several visits to these islands, spent over 350 days here, must certainly have heard of or recorded them; according to the second, that, if any of them had died in the open plains, all traces of them would have disappeared in a space of time comparatively short, as the bones of even horses or of other large cattle are known not to resist exposure to the weather for more than 20 or 30 years; the inference being, that all the remains which have been discovered, owe their preservation to the silt and mud in which they have been very generally found embedded. It was, besides this, averred by some that so ancient, indeed, was the period of the final disappearance of the Moa, that its life probably preceded more than one great geological change, such as that which created Cook Strait; while the occurrence of many species of Struthia as well of the Dinornis suggested, at least to these reasoners, the probability of a former vast Antarctic continent, ^† connectiilg Australia, through New Zealand, with America and perhaps, even with Africa; the whole of this continent, with the exception of Madagascar, Australia, and New Zealand having been since submeyged for countless ages. The smaller groups, more strictly known as Polynesia, weye not, I believe, included in this grand conception, as being when not volcftnic for the most part of coralline formation. But, apart from other considerations, it is clear that such a, speculation requires an enormous amount of evidence to render it at dl probable; nor, indeed, am I aware that it has been in any way confirmed by competent geologists; moreowr, so far as the present enquiry goes, by siiuplifying, it may be, but, in a very doubtful manner, the problem to be discussed, it looks to me very much like cutting the hot, we ouglit rather to atteinpt untying. Of conrse, if there were any real evidence (such as me see in channels so narrow as tlhat between England and France) that, Within a tolerably recent period; and Australia on the one aicie, and with India, via the Malay Peninsula, ctc., on the other, we should have the chance of solving many difficulties, which now beset the enqniry into the origin of many races, whose languages, so fay as they can be trusted, certaidy shew considerable signs of affinity. Late reseascies have, however, shewn, conclusively, that the idea

of the extraordinary antiquity of the last living Moa cannot be maintained; indeed, considering the vehemence with which the antiquarian theory has been urged, it is not a little remarkable that the first to discover its remains (Bishop Williams and the late Rev. R. Taylor in 1839) stated their beliefs at the time that the actual extinction of the bird was quite recent; a view, in which they were subsequently energetically supported by Mr. Walter Mantell (the son of the well-known geologist), himself, at once, by far the greatest collector of Moa remains, and the person to whom, more than to any one else, all the Museums in Europe have been indebted for the specimens they now possess. Elaborate examinations of the districts or individual spots either where bones have been accidentally discovered or theoretically guessed at, as those most likely to prove rich in such relics^* have since been carried out and discovered by Drs. Haast, Hector, Captain Hutton, Messrs. Murison. Booth, and others, the result, being, the discovery of many portions of these birds, with not only their skin and muscles adhering to their bones, but even their feathers, a combinatioi which could not have been preserved, had not the destruction of these individual birds, at least, been quite modern. In the course of these researches, I may add,

extensive and long occupied camping grounds of the Moa-hunters have been explored, and many essential points relative to their mode of life have been ascertained. By these means it has been shewn, that the argument for their remote antiquity, derived from the discovery of rude as well as highly finished stone implements, falls to the ground. Clearly they are found thus intermixed, as having been in use at one and the same time by the same people. As both these classes, together with a large quantity of flakes of flint and chert have been discovered in these camping grounds, it is reasonable to suppose that each type of implement was used just as might be required for the matter in hand. If, for instance, the Moa-hunters wished to grub up fern roots, they would use, as the Maoris do now, the hard and often highly polished adzes; if they were desirous of stripping the flesh off the tough neck of the bird, they would make use of the sharp flakes of flint; if, lastly, they were anxious to break the thick bones of the tibia, to get at the marrow, they would use the rough and massive kapus, as suggested by Dr. Hector. The fact is, no satisfactory reasons can be deduced for the age of those, who used these weapons, merely from the circumstances under which they have been found; but, at the same time, there is clearly no proof of their remote antiquity; moreover, what may be called a manufactory of flint flakes is constantly associated with the Moa bones where most abundant. Again, recurring to the idea of the ignorance of the natives, as inferred from the want of traditions about this bird, it is certain from more careful enquiry, that so little ignorant were the natives, as a matter of fact, that, so early as the first discoveries of 1839, they joined readily with the English settlers in their further search for them, at the same time making no mistakes or blunders about the objects they were looking for, as is distinctly affirmed by Sir George Grey in a letter to the Zoological Society, himself, from having mixed as much as any one with the people, being a very competent witness on this subject.

Indeed, in a subsequent letter to Mr. Mantell, Sir George Grey states definitely that when he first came to New Zealand, the natives told him that the Moas were fast disappearing, but that they thought one might, perhaps, be found—and Mr. Mantell has, incidentally, pointed out that the corroded state in which the egg-shells of the Moas are often found is no test of their antiquity, nor caused, as was at first supposed in Europe, by the long continued action of water; it is rather due to the wearing influence of drift sand, especially at Waingongoro where Bishop Williams procured his first specimen, a place, by the way, which the natives, then resident there, asserted was the spot where their ancestors had first landed.

Nor are we, indeed, now without direct testimony on this head; for the

natives asserted to Governor Weld that the Moa, like the Emu, defended itself by trampling on it adversary, and warned him not to go behind them as they kicked like horses;^* two facts, which it is scarcely possible to suppose were purely inventions of their imaginations. Again, we are told by Mr. Hamilton that he spoke with an old Maori in 1844, who remembered Captain Cook, and who said he had seen the last Moa, describing it as having a long neck like a horse. Mr. Pollack, too, in an early account of New Zealand, affirms the same thing, and states that the natives told him that when food was scarce, the birds were easily entrapped, an assertion then more probable, from the remark of the old man just mentioned, that the plan usually adopted for catching the Moas, was to drive a post into the ground before the caves they frequented, with a stout noose attached to it. Lastly, Dr. Hector himself noticed, in the neighbourhood of Jackson Bay, well-worn tracks through the high scrub about sixteen inches wide, and such, too, as could not have been made by any animal or bird now existing in the Southern part of the Island. It has also been stated, I believe on good authority, that dogs have been known to suck the Moa bones, shewing clearly that these specimens, as would also have been the case with the skin and and muscles of the neek recently found, must have retained in them some nutritious matter.

Putting, then, all these statements together, I confess I do not see how any conclusion can be arrived at, but that the final extinction of the Moas is quite recent. Professor Owen has, I believe, supposed that the Dodo and the Moa passed away together, probably about two centuries ago: but there seem now, fair grounds for thinking, that some specimens of the latter were really alive, at least in the most Southern parts of the Middle Island, as lately as the commencement of the present century.^† It has been stated by Dr. Hector, that the character of the plains and of the brushwood in the recesses of the province of Otago, are pecularly favourable to its habits.

In concluding, then, this portion of my paper, I think I am entitled to say, that, so far as the story of the Moa goes, the credit of the natives, as a truthful race, is unimpaired; and that their not having preserved in their traditions any special references to it, nowise affects the truth of their further assertions of having first colonized the Northern Island about 500 years ago.^‡

(2.) Ethnological.

I take next, the connexion and affinities real or imaginary, between the

Maoris and other peoples, as inferred by European Scholars, on Ethnological principles or from peculiar existing customs: in other words, I propose to examine the questions “Are there any populations in the Pacific Islands with whom there is reason to suppose that the Maoris have blood relations, either by parallel descent from a common ancestor or by a more immediate and traceable pedigree, or do they stand alone and with no apparent affinities with any one else? As my object is, chiefly to place before those, who may look into the Transactions of the N. Z. Institute, the evidence about the Maoris which seems to me reliable, I have not thought it necessary to quote at length the various views that have been held on this subject by scholars in Europe, such for instance, as W. von Humboldt, Crawfurd and others. I have thought that it would be more useful to consider, chiefly, the theories of those writers who, like Mr. Thompson, have placed their opinions on record in the pages of this work.^*

Now before I proceed to make such observations as seem necessary on this part of my general subject, it is necessary that I should state that ethnologists are, generally, agreed in dividing the inhabitants of the Pacific Islands (meaning by this term those portions of land which lie between the two great continents of Asia and America), into certain leading groups; though I must add, in my judgment, not unfrequently, with very inadequate designations. On the whole, I think the division into five such groups, now usually accepted on the continent of Europe, is the clearest and best, though not wholly free from objections: I shall, therefore, adopt this here; though it is not an exhaustive division and many instances occur, as might naturally be expected, of the overlapping of the lines of partition, and of the intermingling of distinct but adjoining populations.

The names of these divisions are:

As distinguished from Melanesia or Micronesia, the inhabitants of these Islands have more resemblance to those of Malaisia, with light or dusky brown skins, often with a tinge of yellow, the New Zealanders and Sandwich Islanders (or Hawaiians) being the darkest, with black and curly as distinguished from woolly or frizzly hair. One other considerable group I have omitted, purposely, that of the Fiji (or Viti) people, as it would seem they are a very mixed race, with many affinities to Melanesia, though their grammar is more like the Tongan. I have not been able, at present, to meet with any very satisfactory account of them, but, as they have now placed themselves under the sovereignty of England, we shall soon I presume know whatever there is to be known about them. It is clear that a great many Polynesian words are incorporated in the few specimens of their language I have met with; indeed, in the name of their principal island Vanua-leva (the high land) I recognize at once, the Maori whenua. One marked distinction between the Viti and the dialects of the adjacent islands, which I have noticed, is the common occurence of two consonants at the beginning of their words, without an intervening vowel. The Fiji chieftains are said, too, to be devoted to the adornment and dressing of their hair, and to exhibit on their heads the circular mop-like masses of hair, so characteristic of the Papuans.

It is probable, that the darker hue noticed as I understand chiefly in the case of the Maoris who are now found in the Southern Island is mainly due to their out of door life, exposure to the weather, and laborious occupations, The climate of New Zealand, especially southward of the middle of the North Island, does not differ very much from that of the South of England and France; requires, therefore, warm clothing and gives ample scope for bodily

energies;but the reverse of this must be the case with Saumatoa, Marquesas, Society and Navigators' Islands; while the climate of the Sandwich Islands must approach much more nearly to that of the latter, than to that of New Zealand.

So far, then, I think it may be taken as a matter of general agreement that the native race of New Zealand have, on the whole, much more marked resemblance to those populations grouped under the name of Polynesia, than they have to the Negrito or Papuan peoples. It remains, however, to be shewn whether they have any nearer connexion with these Islands than may be fairly assumed from the broad differences between the black Negro and the yellow Malay; and, further, whether, admitting this one physical resemblance between them and the Malays, there is any reason to suppose them the descendants of a Malay colony, who might have found their way to New Zealand six or seven centuries ago.

It is right that I should state; in limine, that some writers, as Dr. Dieffenbach, and, to some extent, Mr. Thomson^* also, have maintained that there are two distinct races in New Zealand, the yellow-brown and by far the most numerous, but, besides these, a much darker skinned people; and have assumed that these two classes are descendants of two original stocks, the darker being the original. Later examination has not, however, as it seems to me, confirmed this view; besides it is scarcely probable that had there been, at any time, a considerable infusion of a Negrito population, they would not have left behind them some other traces of their former presence, than merely a certain number of darker skinned people, with hair differing in quality from that found among the majority of the population. I shall recur to this theory, presently.

Now there are various ways in which such an inquiry as I am proposing might be carried out, independently of what are called “Race-characteristics,” such as the recognition of a similarity or peculiarity of customs, manners, etc., prevailing through all or most of the leading Polynesian groups, but which are found less universally, or not at all, elsewhere;—or, the unity or difference of dialects among the islanders. To each of these, especially the latter, I shall refer at some length hereafter. But I must notice first, a new view of the “whence” of the Maoris, which has been advocated with much ability in the Fourth Volume of the “Trans. of the N. Z. Inst.” by Mr. J. T. Thomson; because, if his theory can be maintained, the Maori can, hardly, be any longer considered as a

leading member of the Polynesian groups; at least, I do not understand that Mr. Thomson applies his theory to the whole of the Pacific Islanders, or perhaps, I am more accurate in saying, to the same extent, as in the New Zealanders.

In this theory, Mr. Thomson, following, often in the same words, the very learned, but, to my mind, unsatisfactory views, of the late Mr. Logan, in the “Journal of the Indian Archipelago”^* has assumed, that, in remote ages, a much wider range of country was occupied by the dark skinned and woolly haired races; in fact that they ranged over the whole of the plains of Hindostan, as well as over Africa, Madagascar, the Andaman Islands, New Holland, and New Guinea, etc., indeed, as far as 170° E. long. Closely, on the northern flank of these dark men, were the energetic Aryans, who, at some time or other, forced their way so far west and north-west as Ireland and Scandinavia, and the Tibetans—that is, the White and theYellow races—both of whom, ultimately, though, probably, with an interval of many centuries between them, descended into India, the one by the Punjaub, Jumna, and Ganges, the other by the Brahmaputra. The result of these invasions was (though chiefly through the agency of the Tibetans, for the Aryans have never much influenced Southern India), the expulsion or, more probably, the enslavement of the dark races, so far, at least, as India was concerned. I may add that it was a further view of Mr. Logan, that some of the castes in the South of India shew in their physiognomies a strongly marked African character, a proof, to his mind, that they are remnants of an Archaic formation of a still more decidedly African type. Thus, he says, the black Doms of Kamdon have hair much resembling wool. But how, one naturally asks, did they get to India? So far as we know, the genuine Negro of Africa has never been a navigating race: and the same thing may, I believe, be predicated of the Papuans and of most of the other Negritos; and though there may have been conquerors from India, who, reversing the fables of Sesostris and Semiramis, may have brought from Africa an entire slave population and settled them in India; as history is

wholly silent on this point, I cannot go the length of accepting, still less of proposing, so wild an hypothesis. Not the least objection I have always felt to most of Mr. Logan's theories—as distinguished from his extraordinary linguistic knowledge, is the prodigious length of time required for working them out. It is true, that if the Logan-Thomson views could be proved, some of the difficulties of the “whence” of the Negrito Island races would be got rid of—for, in such a case, one might suppose the “Melanesian” occupation of Timor, Gilolo, etc., due to their expulsion by the Yellow man from India; and, further, that the Yellow tribes, now, generically, called Malays, may be descendents of those Tibetans (to call them so ex hypothesi) who, coming down from Central Asia into India, drove the dark skinned people before them. I am not called on here to discuss this question; nor, indeed, would it be possible to do so, within the limits of any one paper; but it is worthy of remark, that, though, in some of the islands, the wild dwellers in the inmost fastnesses are as fair as the Malay coast-men, in other islands the dark people have been evidently forced back into the interior, while the yellow races have secured the sea shores and, with these, all the trade of the neighbourhood. Hence, there is no improbability in the idea, that the Yellow men did effect certain conquests over the Negroes, though it does not follow that India itself was ever populated by a purely Negro race. ^*

With regard to the Maoris, Mr. Thomson thinks (as judged by their features) that they are “clearly a cross,” with affinities to the Dravidian or oldest inhabitants of the South of India. But this view is, obviously, at variance with the Negro theory—for the Dravidians are certainly descendents of a Yellow race, ^† who, according to it, drove the Negro people out of

the country; and have, except accidentally, nothing in common with the Negroes. No doubt some of the Tamil population are dark enough, much darker than the ordinary Malay; but their hair is as a rule of a soft glossy black, the very opposite to that of the crisp and woolly Negro. Far more probable, is a further suggestion of Mr. Thomson, that the Maoris are, in part, offsprings of the Tibetan and Ultra-Gangetic races—which Mr. Logan has, I think, also proposed, a race, perhaps, now represented by the Bajow or Oranglaut;—(“Men of the Sea”) the more so, that these tribes are, in an especial manner, “Sea-nomads” and frequent to this day all the waters and islands of the Indian Archipelago. In this way, no doubt, it will be quite possible for New Zealand to have been peopled—only, that unless this took place, at a very remote period we should unquestionably find much more modern Malay in the Maori language, than either Mr. Crawfurd or Mr. Thomson have been able to point out. ^* Moreover this theory does not account for the supposed “cross” unless we imagine the invading Bajows to have brought with them a handsome supply of Papuan slave girls. With Mr. Thomson's further dictum, that the obliteration of an intervening race does not destroy the Ethnological links between two distant regions, I should, of course, agree—only that I do not perceive, in this case, any need for such an obliteration: he has not, I think, shewn that the actually occurring cases of this “cross” are very numerous; while, so far as I can learn from other sources of information, it would appear to be generally considered that the Maoris are one in race as well as in language.

Mr. Thomson in his next paper “On Barata Numerals” (“Trans. N. Z. Inst.,” Vol. V.) endeavours to support his view of “Barata expansion” by an elaborate comparison of the numerals of 34 islands and districts with those now in use in New Zealand, drawn up with great care from the works of Logan, Earle, Wallace, and others, and maintains that the remarkable similarity he has, in many cases, succeeded in showing, is due to these places having all, at some time or other, been either colonized directly, or greatly influenced by the so-called “Bhàrata” population. Now, as I have said

before, I am not at all convinced by the mass of erudition in Mr. Logan's papers, which I have gone through more than once with as much care as possible; moreover I believe, that present physicists are, by no means satisfied with reference to any near connection between the Negritos of the Islands and the genuine Negroes of Africa, though their external resemblances are, at first sight, considerable. I feel therefore, inclined to suggest this further query—viz., Is it not quite as probable, on the whole, that what Mr. Thomson calls “Bhàrata numerals” are really those worked out, gradually, by the colonizing Yellow man, and that, if they are now found, also, in regions occupied by the dark races, they have been forced upon the latter by the power, or possibly, by the intelligence of the former? At any rate, this hypothesis does not require the extreme length of time demanded for the Logan-Thomson theory. Nor, indeed, is it without some confirmation from what may be seen in Mr. Thomson's own list of numerals (“Trans. N. Z. Inst.,” Vol. V., p. 137)—for I observe, that, in New Caledonia and Arru, there are only two numerals the same as those of the Maori; in Kissa and Tenenbar, three; in Mallicolo and Tanna, and Vialo (Temir), four; all of these islands being essentially parts of Melanesia. Supposing, therefore, no sufficient evidence adduced to the contrary, the presumption would, I think, be that these Negritos had acquired such of their numerals, as are similar to those in Polynesia, either by compulsion on the part of their Yellow neighbours or conquerors, or, in the course of commercial intercourse. No one would, I think, assume from such proportions, that the Maori numerals, and those of the other islands, believed to be in many ways cognate with New Zealand, were derived from the ancestors of these Melanesians. Again, if Mr. Thomson's “Bhàrata” theory were true, we should naturally expect some resemblance—and a near one too—between these “Bhàrata” numerals and those of the languages connected more or less nearly with Tamil, the present representative language of the South of India—the Dravidian Tamils—having, agreeably with Mr. Thomson's view,—succeeded to the territorial possessions of the Negro race, they expelled—or, rather, being the actual Dravidian race (according to another of his suppositions) who have led to the “cross” he notices among the Maoris. All I can say, on this head, is that I have carefully examined the numerals in all the leading languages of Southern India, the Tamil, Canarese, Carnatiku, Telagu, etc.—and, that I have not been able to detect even a solitary resemblance with any of those in Mr. Thomson's list. If then, similarity of numerals be any real test of the connexion of races (which I do not at all assert to be the case) it is clear that Mr. Thomson's argument for the existing numerals cannot be sustained as any evidence of the “whence” of the Maoris. If

the present Dravidians were nearly connected with the Maoris, their common numbers would have been nearly the same—if not identical. ^* But though I have thus freely criticised the views put forward by Mr. Thomson, and cannot admit I am a bit more convinced by his reasonings than I was, years since, by the still more elaborate papers of Mr. Logan, I recognise with pleasure the patient labour and study he has shewn in the papers he has contributed to this work, and the value of his independent researches in connection with Malagasi, Malay, Tongan, and Maori. I further think, that it would be a most valuable work, if any scholars, who have the time and the means, would subject the languages of Africa to the same exhaustive treatment, that has been applied with such remarkable success to the languages of Europe, by Gormin and to the Sanskritic dialects by Bopp. Were such a work to be effectually carried out, and were the result this, that the numerals of any reasonable number of these African languages or dialects were found to agree with those in Mr. Thomson's list, I would be first to recognise this fact, and to withdraw the objections I, at present urge. But I must confess I am not very hopeful of the proof of any such agreement between the numerals or, indeed, with any other linguistic system in Africa or in “Indonesia”—the more so, that a very intelligent Negro,—himself a native of the West Coast of Africa, and at present a student at Oxford, tells me that, though familiar with four or five languages on the West, he cannot understand one word of the Eastern language of Zanzibar.

On the other hand, I quite agree with Mr. Thomson, as to the principle of investigation to be pursued in tracing out cognate languages—and the primary words (as he aptly calls them, the “fossils” of language), in that they express the first wants of man, are more tenacious of existence than any others. No doubt, common nouns, pronouns and verbs, when found little changed in a long series of dialects, do go far to prove descent from some one common source. It is, on this very principle, that we speak, and speak truly, of the Celtic, Slavonic and Teutonic languages being akin with Sanskrit, not, indeed, as children to a mother, but as brothers and sisters, the offspring of a parent, at present nameless. As the Roman poet, said so long ago, they may be termed sisters with a strong family resemblance,—

“Facies non omnibus una nec diversa tamen, qualem decet esse sororum.”

But though, as I have said, I cannot accept Mr. Thomson's theory for the

derivation of the Maoris, except so far as he has shewn in his able comparison of the Malagasi, Malay and Tongan languages, I think that there are certain customs prevalent among all or most of the Polynesian Islands, which peculiar to or characteristic of them, do tend decidedly to shew that they were once one people. Thus there is, or has been, in most of them, the worship of a Supreme Being, Tangaloa generally, in New Zealand, Maui, and what is remarkable an almost total absence of Temples, or of anything but the rudest form of Idols. At Tahiti, indeed, and in the Sandwich Islands, coarse wooden figures, which served for such, are noticed in the early missionary narratives. In the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford there is one in stone said to have been brought from Raiatea; and the curious Colossal figures from Easter Island, two of which have lately been set up in the British Museum, may, very probably, have been worshipped by the original population, a different race from the present inhabitants, and perhaps, as has been supposed, of Mexican origin. There seems, also, to have been in Tahiti certain sacred precincts not unlike the old Greek Temenos. ^* The majority of the Gods, however, were deified early chiefs: much as, in ancient Greece, the hero and the God were often nearly connected together. There is, also, much similiarity in the accounts given of the origin of the different islands; that of the Tongans, that they were fished up from the bottom of the sea being a likely story enough for people situated in a vast ocean like the Pacific. In several of the Islands, their Paradise is placed in the far west. Is this an indication of the traditional history of their emigration? Mr. Logan has also pointed out that the leading chiefs, generally bore a title, variously pronounced Aliki, ali'i or ari'i. ^† Thus in Maori, ariki or whaka-ariki means a man of high or ancient hereditary descent, and one, therefore, clothed with a peculiar sanctity. Mr. Mariner gives many interesting details of the Religion of the Tongans, before Christianity, and much similiar information may be gleaned from Ellis's Polynesian researches—such as the institution of what he calls the Areoi, a set of wandering players—who devoted themselves to every kind of debauchery—were hated by the agricultural people whom they plundered—but upheld by the chiefs—and, generally, looked up

to by the populace at large, as being something Divine, or rather Diabolical. This institution was directly connected with the very prevalent practice of infanticide, especially with the destruction of female children. It would seem that, by some fortunate accident, the customs incident to this institution were not accepted by the Marqesans. Human sacrifice was universal, and Suttee (Satî) not uncommon. Again, there is the institution (probably sanitary), of Tapu (anglice, Taboo), ^* which, extending to all the Islands of Polynesia, is, in an eminent degree, characteristic of them—though not absolutely unknown elsewhere. Mr. Crawfurd used to say that the name and the practice were of Indian origin ^†—but this may, I think, well be doubted. It is not, however, easy from the very various accounts of it, to decide,—what may have been its most probable origin: its universality, however, proves its antiquity. The Hindu, tapu (penance) is far from being comprehensive enough; I should rather have supposed its origin in the will of some great potentate or chieftain, who united in himself, as was so often the case in former times, not only in Polynesia, but in classical lands, the double office of King and Priest. Obviously, no institution could tend more fully to foster and support the tyranny of the leading men. While the quite recent, if not still prevailing custom, of disusing certain words or syllables, which, occurring in the names of great chiefs, might be supposed disagreeable to their ears, is, I believe, but one further instance of the power of “tapu.” It must be remembered that the usual Maori word for a priest “Tohunga” does not necessarily, bear the title now assumed for it—but is strictly the “skilled artisan” ^‡—the clever fellow, who can turn his

hand to any thing. ^* This is clearly seen in Tongan, where tufunga means any kind of workman as tufunga ta maka, a mason; tufunga fei cava, a barber. In an early stage of society, such men naturally take the place of leaders, and if they could add a little superstition to their other abilities, this would help them all the more to keep down the common people. Another custom very prevalent in the Polynesian Islands, though not strictly confined to them, was that of cannibalism. It is true that, in Australia, with a population quite as savage as can be found anywhere else, as also in Micronesia, man-eating was not practised,—moreover, that it was less frequent in the Navigator's Friendly Society and Sandwich islands than in New Zealand, the Marquesas, etc. Still, there can be no question that the practice was occasional everywhere and involved no loss of caste or character on the part of those addicted to it. In some places, too, it would seem that the victims, generally slaves or captives were fattened previously to being killed. Much has been written on this subject, and it has been held up to view as the most atrocious act that man can commit: it seems, however, to me to be, but one more instance of the entire disregard of anything sacred in the human body or in human life, which the stories in the works of Mr. Mariner and Mr. Ellis show to have been so generally prevalent in the Pacific Islands. It is not pleasant to call hard names, but there can be no doubt that, till very recently, murder daily and under every form, was the characteristic practice of all these Island populations. To eat portions of a body so slain—especially, if slain with the view of propitiating some evil spirit, is not unnatural, and has been done in modern times and by people calling themselves Christians. ^‡ Another custom, like most of those I have mentioned, very universal among these Islands, though, not absolutely restricted to them was that of Tattoo;—the carving on the outward surface of their bodies,—and, especially of their faces, certain patterns, generally curves, and forcing into the skin thus incised, various pigments most frequently of a blue colour. This custom, though partially practised by some of the Tribes now living in the Eástern outskirts of India, cannot, I believe, be traced to India itself. The word used for it is nearly the same in most of the dialects. Thus, Tahit., tatau; (with two special words given by Monkhouse and Cook for tattooing in different

parts of the body, viz., Tamoraho and Tamorau) Marqunesan, tatu and patu; Nukuhivan, pikipatu; Tongan, Tattu; Hawaian, Kakau; but, curiously enough, though as much practised there as anywhere else, there seems to be no similar word in the New Zealand language, except the doubtful Tamoko, or lizard, is the Maori word, possibly from the curved lines they rejoiced in tracing, in parallel lines, on both sides of the face. As to the origin of this curious practice, there is great diversity of opinion, some writers fancying that it arose from a sense of decency; but it seems hardly probable, that a people accustomed, in many of the islands, to wear scarcely any dress, should have adopted, for this reason only, a custom so extremly painful in its operation. ^*

A more likely reason would seem to be that of striking terror into their enemies; while, if it be true, as Mr. Ellis asserts, that the attendants of the different chiefs were usually tattooed like their masters, only less elaborately, this plan would answer well as a means of identification.

Another curious custom is that of Cava-drinking, the nauseous mode of preparing which Cava, in the Tonga Islands, is minutely described by Mr. Mariner. I do not know whether this custom is universal, but the word is found in most of the dialects, for a species of the pepper plant.

I think I have now said enough on the subject of some of the principal customs, which, if not all peculiar to Polynesia, certainly prevailed in these Islands more than anywhere else. They are, as it seems to me, essentially such, as would be handed down from family to family, and from tribe to tribe. They are, hardly, such as would be invented by two or three separate sets of peoples, but point, almost as surely as the colour of the skin or the texture of the hair, to a period, when the inhabitants of these widely scattered islands were one people dwelling together. I venture, therefore, to hope that in drawing to a conclusion, this, the Ethnological portion of my Essay, I shall be deemed to have shown some reasonable grounds for believing the Maoris, Tahitians and, generally, the dwellers in Polynesia, with the partial exception of the Fijeeans, One Race, physically, united under one group, with clear and definite lines of demarcation, which separate them from the Dark-skinned people on the one hand, and from the White races on the other.

(3).Philology, &c.

In the Third portion of this paper, I propose to examine, so far as I can with the limited materials within my reach, the relation, if any between the Maori language as traceable during the last hundred years, and those of the other principal islands of Polynesia; to do, in short, on a somewhat more extended scale, what Mr. Thomson has so well done recently (“Trans. N.Z. Inst.,” Vol. VI., p. xxv. Appendix, 1873), in the careful comparison he has made between the Malagasi and Malay, Maori and Malay, Tongan and Malay. In this important paper, he has most successfully demonstrated, and, I believe for the first time with sufficient fulness, the connexion subsisting between these languages; an affinity, which has, indeed, been pointed out before by W. v. Humboldt, Buschmann, Chamisso and others, but, as resolutely denied by other competent scholars, such as the late Mr. Crawfurd.

And I am the more induced to undertake this work, because, beyond what Mr. Thomson has accomplished, and a few remarks by Mr. Colenso in a paper not specially devoted to this subject (“Trans. N. Z. Inst.” Vol. I.), I do not perceive that this question has been taken up by anyone else in New Zealand, or, at least, has been discussed as fully as it deserves. I can, of course, only hope, in a very small degree, to supplement Mr. Thomson's researches, especially, as for one or two important branches of the whole subject, I have failed to procure either in London or in Oxford, the necessary books. ^* Yet, I am in hopes, that this work, though, avowedly, so imperfect, may yet be so far useful, that it will place within a small compass, what seem to be the inost striking varieties, at least as regards their litteral system, between many of these dialects, and may thus enable

other students, on the spot, to follow up these matters, in greater detail,—and, as certainly, to correct many errors into which I have myself surely fallen, in my desire to call attention to those things, which seem to me of most interest and importance in the languages I have been able to examine. The general result, I am convinced will be, a complete and satisfactory proof to all who have time or patience to follow up the steps of the argument, that over a wide range of the Pacific Ocean, including the Sandwich Islands on the extreme north, and New Zealand and Madagascar to the south and south-west, are still to be found ample remains—the “disjecta membra"—of one original language. It may, perhaps, also tend to the solution of the ultimate and still more interesting question, whence, at a remote period, the forefathers of the present occupants of these islands, themselves, emigrated, I venture to add must have emigrated—for, in point of fact, Crawfurd's “autochthones” theory is far more difficult of comprehension. Given sufficient time, and, here, I have no evidence against me, even though I am not able to produce evidence in my favour which will convince other people; there is no difficulty, whatever, in conceiving a continued emigration from the East (if Mr. Ellis' theory be preferred), or from the West, which I hope, hereafter, to show is of the two the more probable.

I think it highly probable that the researches of Mr. Thomson combined with the few matters I have, myself, been able to note down in the following pages, may, if more fully carried out by individual scholars at Rarotonga, Manganevu, etc., and, at perhaps, other less known islands, form a useful manual for future and more advanced study; or, at all events, a tolerably accurate record of our present knowledge of these islands, so far, at least, as their languages are concerned. It is, I think, a work that ought not to be delayed, as contact with European civilization—with its languages—together with the natural influence of trade, must every year modify, considerably, the native tongues. Mr. Logan (“Ind. Arch.,” Vol. IV., p. 272) says “I saw, lately, some Honolulu youths at Singapore for the first time. Their thoroughly English dress, manners, and speech, were calculated to make a strong impression, after a perusal of the account of Cook's reception and death at Hawaii in 1779.” I feel myself certain, that, not many centuries will elapse, ere Tahitian, Fiji (or Viti), and Maori, will be as much things of the past, as Cornish is now in England. With the extinction of these languages, it is not too much to say, that though “race characteristics may best go down in blood” (Whitney, “Life and Growth of Language,”) we shall lose an invaluable aid in our endeavours to trace out the “whence” of the Maoris.

I propose, therefore, now, as I believe this is, on the whole, the simplest plan, to take the different parts of speech, separately, in the order usually presented in European grammars, and, in this instance, to adhere to that given by Dr. Williams, as, perhaps, the clearest, though, by no means, the fullest. Dr. Maunsell's work is invaluable for the Syntax; but, with this portion, I do not feel myself at present competent to deal; nor is it, indeed, essential that I should for the object I have here in view. I ought, perhaps, to add here, that Dr. Maunsell and some other writers have objected to the use of the names, cases, moods, etc., in Maori grammar, because, in it, strictly speaking, as in other Polynesian dialects, we do not find those modifications of the root-stems of the words which occur in Sanskrit, Greek, etc., and which constitute the peculiarity of what are, therefore called Inflectional languages. I venture, however, to think that these names may be usefully retained as conveying, at least, to European eyes and ears, certain definite senses which are in the main true. As a matter of fact, such names might as easily be dispensed with in most modern languages, and are, indeed, only kept for the sake of convenience.

Before, however, I proceed to discuss in detail the various parts of the Grammar, it is necessary to note the principal and constant variations in the consonantal systems of these Oceanic languages and to establish for them so far as it is possible, the common laws of their permutation, after the fashion so successfully applied by Jacob Grimm in the case of the European tongues. There is, indeed, a remarkable regularity in these changes; but I am not, at present, prepared to state that the reason for this is, that any one of them stands to any other exactly in the relation of parent to children. This point I must reserve till the conclusion of my paper. Now many writers have called attention to a larger or smaller number of these variations. Thus, Mr. Thomson, in the article to which I have already referred more than once (“Trans. N. Z. Inst.,” Vol. VI., p. 53), has pointed out that, in Tongan, the Maori p, t, k, r, and w, find equivalents in b, b, g, l, and v: as, in the following instances,—

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so, too, h and p similarly interchange, as,

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Again, Mr. Logan has shewn that k is very generally omitted in Samoan, Tahitian, and Hawaian, though present in other dialects, and, in the same way, l in Tongan; that h appears as s, in the dialects of the Samoans and

Fakaafo; f as w or h in Maori, and h in Hawaian; that the v of the others, is generally w, in Maori, Hawaian, and Saumatoan, and that the Maori r, is replaced by l, in the Fakaafo, Samoan, and Hawaian.

Other changes I have noticed (and I doubt not more are to be found by learned scholars in the islands themselves), such as the double one, in the case of the Maori wahine (woman) as compared with the Tongan (fafine); the absence in Tahitian of the Maori ng; ^* and, further, the change of the ng into n in Hawaian, and into k in Nukuhivan. The general inference to be drawn from these modifications would seem to be, that the Polynesian dialects (at least so far as we can judge of them from their present forms) do not sharply distinguish between v and w, d and t, l and r, d and r, b and p, g and k; that t and k are sometimes confounded; and, that one island has an affection for one set of sounds, another for another. In these changes and modifications of sound, the classical scholar is reminded, at every step, of the dialectical changes of ancient Greek, dependent as both the Classical and Oceanic dialects alike have been on the greater or the less education of the ear in different localities. ^† I should add that Mr. Thomson gives the following proportion of the number of consonants in different dialects to which he has called attention; and this list is certainly curious, as shewing an apparent diminution in the powers of vocal expression, as you proceed from West to East. Thus he states that, while Malay has 18 consonants, Mindanao has 16; Wagi of Celebes, 15; Tanna, 13; Malagasi, 12; Mallicolo, 12; Awaiya of Ceram, 10; Tahiti, 9; Maori, 8; Marquesas, 7; Sandwich, 6: but it should be remembered, that some of these, as Mindanao, Mallicolo, and Ceram, do not fall within what is usually termed Polynesia; moreover, I am not satisfied (not that I doubt that Mr. Thomson has taken his lists from books correctly), that the numbers given above do really represent all the consonantal sounds—which accurate ears, combined with sound philological knowledge, would detect in even the existing languages. Mr. J. E. Alexander, who has written an excellent preface to Mr. Lorrin Andrews' valuable Dictionary of the Hawaian language, remarks

as general laws prevailing throughout the Polynesian dialects, that every word and syllable ought to end in a vowel; that most of the radical words are of two syllables; that the accent is usually on the Penultimate; and that the islanders have, as a rule, sharp ears for the distinguishing of vowels, but dull ones for consonants. He, also, points out as characteristic of Hawaian, and of one or two other of the dialects, that where the k (found elsewhere) is omitted, there is, in the middle of the word “a peculiar guttural catch or break.” It would be a very interesting subject for research, if missionaries or others, dwelling in the separate islands, and well acquainted therefore, with their marked geographical features, would notice whether any (and what) differences exist between the dialects of the mountaineers and of the low country people, and what are the laws governing the differing pronunciations of languages, presumably the same radically. Supposing, for instance, there was still a numerous race of natives living in the Canterbury Plains, these people would almost certainly speak in Maori, dialectically diverse in many ways, from the Maori of the North Island, or even of the west of the Alpine ranges of the Middle Island. Languages in narrow valleys between lofty mountains are often strangely different the one from the other, though, unquestionably, those of one family.

As it is of great importance to keep clearly in view the nature of these changes, I submit, here, a list of them from the Preface to the Hawaian Dictionary, drawn up I presume by Mr. Alexander, as it very clearly shows what we may expect to find in each case. This list differs, in some slight matters, from the opinions quoted by me from Mr. Logan, but, having been drawn up on the spot, may, I have no doubt, be quite depended on.

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The meaning of this is, that when a word in one dialect begins with a certain letter, it will probably be found (if, indeed, it occurs at all, which is by

no means always the case) under the corresponding letter in the preceding list. The following list of words, taken from the same preface, illustrates this matter even more clearly,—

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In the same preface, it is further remarked that r and d are often hardly distinguishable from one another, a fact, which I notice has been preserved in Lee's (or rather Kendal's) “New Zealand Grammar,” where dua, todu, dima, and wadu are found instead of the present spelling of, rua, toru, rima, and waru; that, in writing Hawai, k has been “erroneously” ^* adopted in the place of t; and that, throughout the dialects, there are comparatively few changes of vowels, and, when these occur, they are usually owing to consonantal influences. Thus, in Hawaian, hohu, honua, maia', and maika'i represent the feta, fenua, and maitaki of other dialects. Mr. Alexander, also, thinks that, in the consonantal sounds, the Hawaian is one of the softest and most attenuated of the dialects, being surpassed in that respect only by the effeminate Marquesan.

I proceed now to take the different parts of the Grammar in the order set forth in Dr. Williams' “Grammar,” noticing—

I. The Articles; and, here, I at once observe a very general agreement, such modifications as there are, applying usually only to the initial letters. Generally, with the exception of the Tongan, each dialect has a Definite and Indefinite Article. Thus Maori has te and he; Tahitian, Raro-tongan, and Mangarevan, te and e; Hawaian, ke (for te) and, sometimes, it would seem from Buschmann, he; in Tongan, he is the only article, but ko is often used in answering a question, as, koa tangata, a man. When several things come together, ko is generally used and he omitted, and so before proper names—as, ko Tuo, ko Koumete, ko Finow. Dr. Maunsell has further, I think, rightly considered that the indicator of the Plural in Maori (nga)

partakes of the nature of an article as do, also, te tahi (literally the one) and its plural etahi. ^*The latter, he thinks, corresponds very nearly with the use of the French des, or the adjectival “some” of English. Thus—

Te tahi maripi, a knife; maku etahi ika, give me some fish.

He shews, also, that te is used

Somewhat similar variations may be noticed in the case of he, which, like te, is often used where no article is required in English, in the sense of “some,” and, before nouns in the plural number, as, kawea he wai, fetch some water;he tini oku kainga, my farms are many.^†

I must mention here that Mr. Logan, to whom all students of “Oceanic” Philology are so much indebted, has pointed out ^‡ the curious fact that, in what he calls W. Indonesia, i. e., Sumatra, Java, etc., the definite article is si: this si, he thinks, is nearly connected with the Polynesian tahi, tasi,—and, probably, with the modified forms se and he. In like manner, other forms such as iti, ti and te, resemble closely the Polynesian te and ta. Again, an and ang, which occur frequently in an appellative sense, have a striking similarity to the Polynesian na, nga; while the ka, kua, and koe of Maori, Tongan and Saumatoan, would seem to be connected with similar forms in the dialects of W. Indonesia. In a former essay, ^§ the same distinguished scholar has shown, that there are many characteristic features in Polynesian, which have not been preserved, either in Sanskrit or in any of its modern derived dialects, but, which are, at the same time,

found in Greek and other western Indo-European languages. Thus, this very definite article, lost in Sanskrit or Malay, but common in Greek, has remained in full use in Polynesia and, what is more curious, in even the mountain dialects of the rude Khasias of Assam.

II.Substantives. Are distinguished according to their gender, number, whether singular or plural, and case. Of these, the first, in most of the dialects, is shown by attaching to the word, another one signifying male or female.

Thus Maoris use tane and wahine when applied to human beings, tourawhi and uwha when applied to the brute creation or inanimate objects—as, He matua tane—He matua wahine—He kararehe tourawhi (a male beast)—He kararehe uwha (a female beast). Maori has, also, according to Dr. Maunsell (p. 19), several distinct words for specially related men and women as Tuahine, a man's sister—to which it is not necessary to refer to more fully here. The words and their use in the other dialects are nearly the same. Thus:—

The Plural is shown in several ways, but most simply in Maori and Rarotongan by the prefix of nga, as, tangata, a man, nga tangata, men. There are, however, in Maori other methods of expressing plurality such as placing before the noun some of the plural or dual pronouns, as, aku tupuna, my forefathers. ^* Sometimes o is used as, kei o Hone matua, with John's uncles; sometimes the ground form is altered—as, tamaiti, a son, tamariki, children. Occasionally ma is added, with, as Dr. Maunsell suggests, the Greek sense ὂὶἀμει,ὂὶπεϚι (viz., a person and his company)—as, kei a Kukutai ma, with Kukutai and his party; while a constant repetition of the same act may be designated by a reduplication of one or more syllables, as, kimo, to wink, kimokimo, to wink frequently.

^†

In Tongan the plural, in the case of things inanimate, is mostly denoted by the particle e, combined with a numeral, as, togi e ua, axes two; falle e tolu, houses three, etc., or, when an indefinite number is required, by lahi, many or several; as, lahi e vaka, many canoes.† In animate objects, a distinction is made, as to whether they are rational or irrational beings, the particle toko being used with a numeral, in the former case; as, for instance, tangata te tokotahi, one man only; fafine toko toru, three women; tokotahi e tangata, many men. Two other words (probably old collective nouns) sometimes occur, viz., kau and tunga, as, kau or tunga tangata, a body of men; kau tangata tokoterau, a body of men, a hundred. In Hawaiian, the Plural is shown by na, pue, mau, with article te, hui, feia according to Buschmann, and, in Marquesan, by mau. There are, no doubt, many other modifications—as the Rarotongan au and kau both in Tongan and Hawaiian (Buschmann), tau in Nukuhivan (Mosblech); but these are sufficient to show the resemblances between the Dialects in this particular.

The cases in Polynesian (if, indeed, there be any, which Dr. Maunsell, I think rather unnecessarily, calls in question) are clearly indicated by prefixing various particles, generally prepositions. Thus the Nominative is denoted in Maori, Tongan, Rarotongan by ko, and, in Tahitian, Hawaiian and Nukuhivan, by o. This particle is found before the article te, ^* and the possessive pronouns, as well as before Plural particles, which precede the substantive. According to Buschmann, o occurs sometimes in Nukuhivan texts to mark the Accusative. The Genitive is, usually, shewn by the prefixes of no, na, o and a. Of these, o is the most common; while a is used, in a restricted sense, before living things. To and ta, also occur, and, in Hawaiian, ko, ka. The same pairs of prepositions serve to form the possessive pronouns by union with the personal. M. Buschmann remarks that those with a generally indicate a dependent, those with o an independent relation, and, further, that the genitival form in a, o, na, no follows the governing word, while ta and to precede it.

In all the Polynesian languages, when two nouns come together without any particle between them, the second is considered to be in the genitive case.

The Dative is very regular. Thus, in Maori, Tongan, Rarotongan, and Mangarevan it is shewn by the prefix of ki; and, in Hawaiian and

Tahitian by that of i only. Before Proper names of Persons, and before the Personal pronouns, ki becomes kia in Maori and Rarotongan, as, in Tongan, gui, becomes guia. M. Buschmann points out that, after the verb to give, the Dative of the person is expressed by the preposition na and no in Rarotongan, Tahitian, and Hawaiian, and that he has also detected na in Marquesan, as, a tuu maï na matuu, give us our bread.

The Accusative, when marked at all, is, generally, shewn by a preceding i, in, at least, Maori, Tahitian, Hawaiian, and Rarotongan—and this i likewise becomes ia before proper names. In a great many cases, the substantive alone after the verb is sufficient, as, in the instance, from the Nukuhivan given by M. Buschmann, apevau te nata, call the man. The Vocative is marked in Maori, Rarotongan, Tahitian, Hawaiian, and Marquesan by é, preceding the noun. Occasionally in Tahitian and Hawaiian, é is found after, as well as before the substantive.

The Ablative is indicated by i or e, the first being used to express means, cause or manner, while e is more usual after a passive verb.

Taking next—

III.The Adjective. The most general of all rules relating to the Adjective is that it follows the substantive and has not of it self, any distinctions of genderor number. It is usual to prefix ka when the adjective is alone, as ka roa, long; ka poto, short; but, when with, that is, after a substantive, the ka is omitted, as, he rakau roa, a long tree. Comparatives and Superlatives are formed by particles; by one or more words prefixed or post fixed; or by a repetition of the adjective itself, as, he waka nui, he waka nui atu, he mea nui nui. In some cases, the comparison is shewn by the insertion of the particle i, as, nui atu tenei waka i tera. This canoe is bigger than that—or without the i, as pai rawa te hanga a te tangata nei, this man's performance is best; in both of which latter instances, the adjective precedes the noun. The Plural is, being generally, made by a reduplication of the first syllable of the adjective—thus, he rakau pai, a good tree; he rakau papai, good trees: Archdeacon Williams however, remarks that these changes or modifications are not invariable, and that the simple form is often used in the plural. The reduplicated one, however, is restricted to the Plural. He adds, that the result of doubling both syllables of the roots is to diminish the intensity of the meaning of the root; as, wera, hot; werawera, warm (Dict., 1871, p. 8). In Tongan, there are some modifications. Thus, fu, great, very; foe, whole, entire, etc.; fu lahi, very many;—come before the substantive,—indeed, are used to a great extent, adverbially—hence, we find, fu ita, great anger (i.e. very angry);

Fu ulu, a single head—or the whole head; Fu ufi, a single yam, or an entire yam. Again, an interchange not unfrequently occurs—substantives being used as adjectives or vice versa, as, he vaka Fiji, a Fiji Canoe. In some cases, adjectives are derived from substantives by adding ia or ea—as, mafanna, heat; mafannaia, hot. In degrees of comparison, Tongan is nearly the same as Maori—but, the substantive verb would seem always to come first, as, gua lille ange he mea koeni gi he mea koia—is, better this than that thing (Mariner, p. 12). The superlative is, generally, made by the addition of the word obito most, very—as, this axe is the best, koe togi koeni gua lille obito. Dr. Maunsell observes that in Maori, adjectives, generally, take the form of the noun with which they are connected—i.e. if the noun be verbal, so is also the adjective—as, oranga tonutanga, Eternal life; that, when there are several qualities, the noun must be repeated with each quality; as, he tangata nui, he tangata pai, etc., that a common mode of denoting inferiority of degree is to associate together two contrary qualities as, pai kino, good—bad, i.e., indifferently good; Roa poto, long—short, i.e., of moderate length, etc., and, lastly, that, to represent the superlative degree, the definite article is sometimes prefixed with or without some word of intensity, as, ko au te kaumatua, I am the eldest son; ko te nui tenei o nga rakau katoa, this the large one (i.e., the largest of all the trees).

M. Buschmann remarks that, while the determining adjective comes after the substantive, an adjective preceding, it acts as its attribute, in connexion with the verb “to be.” Thus, in Tahitian, te muua roa is, the high mountain, while é roa te muua means, the mountain is high (p. 173). Again, in Tahitian the comparative is made by the particles aé (ange in Tongan) and atu (so in Maori) placed after the Adjective.

Mr. Logan has suggested (“Journ. Ind. Arch.,” Vol. V., p. 219), that the system of reduplication so prevalent in the Polynesian dialects is due to a love of “euphonic echo,” and that, by this means, plurality, intensity, repetition and reciprocity, are very effectively expressed. The same system prevails in Malay, and, occasionally, in Javanese, but it is far more extensively used in the Polynesian dialects than elsewhere. Thus, in Samoan, lau utele, is, a great tree; lau utetele, large trees. Rarotongan, Maki, sick; maki maki, sick persons. Javanese, homa gede, large house, homa gede gede, large houses. Again the Superlative in Viti (Fiji) is made of the reduplication of the Adverb, thus levu sara sara means, very very great. In Javanese, the same effect is produced by doubling the adjective—as duwor duworre, the highest. So, too, adverbs may be doubled, as genti genti, by turns. For intensity of action, we find in Tongan, tete, to tremble; tete tete,

to tremble much. So Rarotongan, kati, to bite; kati kati, to bite much. Hawaiian, lawe, to take; lawe lawe, to handle. Again, for repetition, plurality and reciprocity, we have in Maori, inu, to drink; iinu, to drink frequently. Tahitian, amaha, to split, amahamaha, to split repeatedly. Hawaiian, lele, to jump; lelelele, to forsake, repeatedly, (as a man his wife.) Nukuhivan, pepi, to strike; pepehi, pehipehi, to strike hard and often. Samoan, fete, to fear; na fefefe i latau, they were afraid; moe, to sleep; momoe, to sleep together. Tongan, nofo, to dwell; ke mau nonofo, to dwell together. Rarotongan, tae, to come; e tatae atu ra raua, and they two arrived. Tahitian, Taoto, to sleep; taotooto, to sleep together. In Javanese, hambedil bedil, means, continuing to shoot; bali, to return; bali bali, always returning. Vitian, ravu, to kill; sa vei raravui, they are killing one another. So, again, in Vitian, kamba, to climb; kamba kamba, a ladder. Tongan, lolo, oil; lolo lolo, oily. Rarotongan, paka, a stone; paka paka, stony.

IV.Numerals.—In dealing with these, I am in great measure relieved from further labour, by Mr. Thomson's learned and admirable paper on the “Barata Numerals” and though, as I have stated, I cannot accept the special view which he advocates, I, at once, bear most willing testimony to the great ability shewn, not only in this paper (“Trans. N. Z. Inst.,” Vol. V., p. 131), and, in his two other papers “On the ‘Whence’ of the Maori,” which I have also noticed previously. Both these papers I have read three or four times over. I am, however, afraid, that, within the limits of my present paper, I shall not have space for any further examination of the questions Mr. Thomson has brought forward and discussed, but I may do so, hereafter, if I am able to procure the necessary addition to my at present, very limited supply of materials: meantime if I differ from him now, and may do so still more, if I ever have time, as I hope I may, to examine all his arguments as fully as I am sure they deserve to be examined, I rejoice to recognize in him a man, who has done, in the branch of Philology to which he has given his attention, first-rate work. I purpose, therefore, here, merely to point out what seem to me the chief characterictics of the Polynesian system of numeration, reserving for the present, any further discussion of Mr. Thomson's “Bharata” Theory. With reference to thè spelling of the Numerals, I have, in the case of the Maori, taken the forms given in Dr. Williams' most recent dictionary (1871); and, for the other dialects, that I have found most common in the books I have before me.

The following table gives the leading forms:—for those of the Marquesas, Gambier and Hawaiian, I am indebted to M. Mosblech; for the Tahitian and Hawaiian to M. Buschmann compared with Mr. Andrews, and Adalbert von Chamisso; and for the Tongan, to Mr. Mariner—

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I shall, therefore, only remark here that it is usual to place before the numeral, certain particles; of these, ko, ka, e, and a vary least in their several uses. Thus, in Maori, ko is invariably used before tahi and pu or topu for one pair;—thus, ko tahi pu, is the usual form for one pair. Ko tahi, ka rua, etc., answer the question, how many, as here, one, two, etc. When necessary, the individualization taki taki is made use of, as, ka waru taki taki nga kete, there were eight baskets once told. Again, for distribution, tá taki is prefixed to the numeral, as, kia tátaki rua pu nga utu i te tangata, let each man have four payments. So, taki whitu, means, by sevens. Toko is used when speaking of persons only, up to nine; hoko for multiples of ten. E occurs before all the numerals except tahi, but is not so definite as ka. The ordinals are generally expressed by tua or whaka, as, tua iwa, whaka tekau, or by a cardinal with a definite article, as, ko te wha tenei, etc.

In the other dialects, the arrangements of particles, etc. is nearly the same. Thus Hawaiian often puts hoo before tahi—and ma is, generally, used to connect the different numerals as, in—

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In fact, as I have said in the case of Maori, so, in other dialects, we find toa too, toka, used for numbering persons—as, Hawaiian too piti. Tongan, toka hongofulu. Samoan, toa safulu, etc.

The ordinals are arranged on the same principle, as in Maori. Thus we find ko te wa for fourth; so in Tahitian, we have, o ta ha (or' eha or maha); and in Samoan, o te fa. Lastly, as Maori has tua ngahuru for the tenth,

so Rarotongan, has tu rua. Hawaiian, tua lua and tua tolu; and Tongan, tuo ua or tuo tolu. ^*

V.The Pronouns, of which there are five Classes, Personal, Possessive, Demonstrative, Relative, and Interrogative, are somewhat complicated, but, chiefly so, from the number of words, many of which, in English, we should consider had only a quasi pronominal value. As a rule, they exhibit, throughout all the dialects I have been able to compare, a remarkable similarity, moreover are mostly found in all the three numbers of the Singular, Dual and Plural.

It will be simplest to refer to each class separately, so I take first the Personal Pronouns: ^†

The following scheme gives the First Persons of Personal Pronouns in the different Dialects:

The chief point to notice here is that the Dual and Plural are formed by the addition of the numbers, two and three, to the radical of the pronouns; but the roots differ from the singular and the numeral is somewhat contracted. Thus—

We two (inclusive) is in Maori, Rarotongan, Tahitian, Marquesan, taua; Tongan, guita uua; Hawaiian, kaua.

We two (exclusive) in Maori, Rarotongan, Tahitian, Hawaiian, is maua; Tongan, gui ma uua.

You two—korua, Maori, Rarotongan; orua, Tahitian; olua, Hawaiian; guimoua, Tongan.

In these we see the respective additions, of rua, lua, ua (two).

The two (i.e., one and the other)—rana, Maori, Rarotongan, Tahitian; laua, Hawaiian; guinauua, Tongan.

In the Plural—

We (inclusive)—Maori, tatou; Rarotongan, Tahitian, and Marquesan, matoou; Hawaiian, makoou; Tongan, guimautolu.

We (exclusive)—Maori, matou; Rarotongan, Tahitian, Marquesan, matoou; Hawaiian, makoou; Tongan, guimautolu.

You—Maori, koutou; Rarotongan, kotou; Tahitian, Marquesan, outou Hawaiian, oukou; Tongan, guimotolu.

They (masculine and feminine)—Maori, ratou; Rarotongan, Tahitian, ratoou; Hawaiian, eakoou; Tongan, guinautolu.

M. Buschmann points out certain peculiarities in the above Tongan words, as, for instance, the use of gui, the preposition of the Dative, and mo. The Tongan also uses the pure form for three, namely tolu (Maori, Rarotongan, and Tahitian, toru; Hawaiian, kolu). The Rarotongan, Tahitian, and Hawaiian drop the consonant of the numeral, and the Maori makes a further contraction of the vowels. In Tahitian, aou of the Pronoun of the First Person Singular is abridged into ou, after the prepositions a, o, na, no, ta, to, ia (Buschmann, p. 181), the elision being denoted by an apostrophe; and the pronoun ia, both in Tahitian and Marquesan, generally combines with the o of the Nominative and Accusative, making oia; and, also, after the above preposition, takes the form na, preceded by an apostrophe, as, to ia becomes to'na, of him, his; ia'na, to him, etc., for ia ia. ^* But the most remarkable thing in the Polynesian personal pronoun is the existence of two distinct forms in the Dual and the Plural, distinguishing those persons who are really subordinate to the speaker from those who are not. Thus Maua, we two, means, I and my associate, not you. Taua, we, that is, I and you. So Matou, we (not you); tatou, we (with you). Mr. Logan points out (“Journ. Ind. Arch.,” Vol. V., p. 231) that this remarkable idiom is found, also, in the Malay and Philippine languages. The speaker is considered as the centre of being and action, and, in agreement with this, the present and future tenses are, as a rule, indicated in the Polynesian dialects by the definite article. Mr. Logan also thinks, that, to the idea of personality, which has a great influence in crude national minds and languages, is due, also, the double form of the possessive; viz.,

that which is mine attributively—or to possess merely, being indicated by the vowel o, while, that which is mine, objectively, or instrumentally, to act on or with, takes the stronger vowel a. M. Buschmann considers the peculiarity of the Mo, in the Tongan second person Dual and Plural, is also due to Western Malay influence; Mou, in Malay and Javanese, signifying you, yours, as Mo does in Tagala.

I ought to add, that Dr. Maunsell considers some of the Possessive pronouns in Maori, are declensions of the Personal pronouns, as

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and, so, also, Ia, as I a ia, from him, her; and Maua, or Maua, for him or her.

Mr. Williams further thinks, that, with the exception of taku, tau, and taua, they have been formed from the genitive cases of the Dual and Plural numbers of the Personal pronouns. Thus he considers, to taua kainga the abode of us two—is properly, te kainga o taua, the article te and preposition o having coalesced.

The Possessives in Maori are—

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Generally, but, not invariably, taku, tau, tana are used, when speaking of any thing done by or proceeding from a person, while toku, tou, to, and tona apply to something suffered by, or, in the possession of a person. Thus, taku kakahu, means, the garment I am making; toku kakahu, that belonging to me, or which I am wearing.

The resemblances between Maori and the other dialects are, here, well marked. Thus, the Rarotongan is almost identical with the Maori, while the Mangarevan has takoe, tokoe, and the rest the same. Some, like the Tahitian and Samoan, have a contracted as well as a longer form, as Tahitian, tau, tou, nau, nou, au, oe, etc.; Samoan, leau, loau, lau, lou, aau, oou, au, ou, etc. Generally, M. Buschmann's view holds good, that the genitives of the Personal pronouns, formed with the three pair of prepositions, a, o; na, no; ta, to; (in Hawaiian, ka, ko) expresses fairly, the possessive pronouns

in the Polynesian dialects. The selection between those six forms by each separate dialect takes place on the same principles which regulate the formation of the genitive; the pronouns formed by the prepositions ta and to being placed before the substantive, and taking the case sign o; those formed by na, no, a, or o, following the substantive. M. Buschmann adds, that, in his Marquesan texts, he finds tou (for my) and to (they), the latter also occurring in Tahitian.

The Demonstrative Pronouns are preserved most completely in Maori, as,

(referring rather to objects.)

Rarotongan is nearly the same—

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and modified forms, such as te reira, taua nei, aua nei, taua ra, aua ra.

Dr. Maunsell points out that tenei (and its branches) are derived from te and nei, and are resoluble, as,

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and, that ia is also sometimes used demonstratively, as, tona wenua kai ha ia, this is the very land of food.

The Samoan has—

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The Tongan is more defective, and has only, heni, this or these; hena, that or those, wanting, therefore, the adverb and pronoun of the third person, with the usual prefix of ko or a; but Mr. Mariner observes that there is very little distinction between koheni aheni and kohena ahena, here, as in Maori, and, elsewhere, the particles may be separated, as, hê tangata na, that man there.

M. Buschmann observes that the Tahitian téi, téie, éié, correspond, in meaning, with the French ceci, or celui-ci, that is, the person nearest the speaker; while tena agrees with celui-là, the person or thing furthest off. He states, too, that, besides tera, there is also a form vera, used only in the

Plural. I or néi as is obvious in the Rarotongan, teiénéi. In Marquesan (Nukuhiva) he mentions, i téié née, to-day.

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The local relations are formed by the connecting the substantive with one of the three adverbs of locality, néi, na or ra, as, taua, taata, na or ra, this man. Malay and Tagala, especially, preserve similar local relations.

Relative pronouns, as distinct from others, do not appear to be used in the Polynesian dialects, generally they are, in fact, supplied by the sense of the passage, or parts of other pronouns are used for them. Thus, in Maori, the personal pronoun is used for the genitive, as ko te tamaiti tenei nona te ringaringa i wera i te ahi, this is the child whose hand was burnt in the fire (Williams, p. xxii.); or by ai after the verb, as, kei hea te pukapuka i tuhi-tuhi ai koe, where is the letter that you wrote? Ai is sometimes similarly used, as, nana ahau i ora ai, his (was the effort) by which I was saved. In the other dialects, similar devices are adopted. Thus, in Hawaian, te; Tahitian, tei and otei; Rarotongan tei and ko tei are met with.

In the case of the Interrogative Pronouns, it seems to me that it is difficult, in many instances, to decide whether some of them are not more properly adverbs. Those, however, usually given in the Maori grammars are:—

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Besides these, Dr. Maunsell notes kohea and pehea, and adds that plurality is sometimes obtained by using ma (as we have seen before), as, Ko wai ma ena, who are they?

The use of tehea is seen in the sentence, Ko tehea o nga waka i pakaru? which of the canoes was broken? Ko ehea tangata au e ki nei? which men did you speak of?

In Tongan, Mr. Mariner gives—

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As, Kohai tangata ko hena.

Koe tangata kohena ahái?

But, Koe togi ko ena heha? What axe is that?

In the same way, ki heha means, to which?

i he ha " by what?

fi ha (for fi he ha). How many?

M. Buschmann (p. 184) points out that, in Tahitian, the forms are:—

Aha (possibly, the Malay apa, and Javanese hapa) answering to the the French quoi? pourquoi?

é aha (in Rarotongan, ěaa)

téi héa (derived from héa, when, which is used in Hawaiian adverbially as well as pronominally)

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éhia, in the sense of “combien,” “how many?” (possibly the Javanese pira), as, éhia fare? How many houses?

At Nukuhiva—he finds

ovai

ovai aïoa—quel est le nom?

éha tééi—qui est celui-ci?

As, éha te méa néi? Who is it? What is it?

éha ta oe—What are you doing?

The Samoan shows the greatest simplicity of forms, and has rejected even more consonants than Hawaiian or Tahitian. Thus, I find—

ai?—who? As, ko ai tou ingoa? What is thy name?

i ai—to whom?

a—what?

fea—which?

o le fea—which, of more than one?

fia—how many?

é fia fale—how many houses?

So grammarians, as Dr. Maunsell, make further divisions of the Pronouns into Distributive and Indefinite; but these seem to depend more on their position in the sentence than on any thing else, moreover, are also used for other purposes. Thus, he expresses each, and every, by the Demonstrative or possesive pronoun, or by the noun twice or thrice repeated—as, I tenei ra, i tenei ra, each day; ia tangata, ia tangata, each man. In the same way, he states that some other, or any, are, generally, denoted by tetahi, etahi, etc.

In Tahitian, M. Buschmann points out the existence of nearly the same forms, as e.g., etahi or vetahi, e fanu, tu fanu: we find, also, atoa (Maori Katoa) as taua mau mea atoa, all these things. Tu fanu, which he renders “quelques uns,” he thinks corresponds with the Malay ano and the Javanese hanou. E occurs also, he adds, in the sense of “autre,” and is compared by him with the Maori and Rarotongan ke, and the Tongan guihe: he notes, further, that ke means strange in the Maori and Hawaiian and different in Tongan; he believes, therefore, that it may be compared with the Javanese zedje, which bears the three meanings of strange, different, another. In the Tongan, I notice kotoa with the sense of all, which is clearly the same word as katoa; and, yet another form in Hawaiian, with the same meaning, a pau or a pau loa. These, however, can hardly be modifications of the former.

In considering the question of the Verbs M. Buschmann states that it is the weakest part of the Polynesian system of languages, and that, though there are abundant particles more or less connected with it, they fail to determine with accuracy even the principal times; while there is, also, no sufficient distinction between many of the particles employed to denote the separate moods. In this, he agrees, mainly, with Dr. Maunsell, who considers, truly enough, that there are comparatively few verbs in Maori, in the sense in which we speak of those parts of speech in Classical, or even European languages, as the same word may very often be a verb, a substantive, an adjective or an adverb.

At the same time, as Dr. Maunsell further remarks, there are, no doubt, certain verbs, which may be considered as primitive, and certain others which are as clearly derivatives, comprehending under the latter head the reduplicated and compound ones. Since, therefore, às a rule, there is no variation of the ground form to denote, respectively, number, person, gender, mood, or tense; the simplest plan will be to consider separately each of the formations, whether by prefixes or postfixes, which are usually held to denote such changes, although it may be quite true as Dr. Maunsell urges, “that there are but few absolute forms for determining tenses.” As, in the comparison of the various dialects I have as yet been able to examine, the Maori is generally the best preserved, I propose to take the Maori verb first, and then to shew as far as I can, wherein the other dialects agree or disagree with it. Now, it is generally accepted (Williams', p. 24), that the Maori verb may be divided into Active, Neuter, and Causative, each of these divisions having its own passive. Thus, (1), the active and simplest form is clearly seen in the sentence, e kite ana ahau te tangata, I see the man; (2), The Neuter, (as expressing, generally, quality

or circumstance), è moe ana te tamaiti, the child is sleeping; (3), The Causative, made by prefixing waka (generally to Neuter, though sometimes to Active, verbs), as, pono, to be true; wakapono, to believe; mate, sick; wakamate, to make sick. The Passive verb expresses the action of some agent, as, e kitea ana té tangata e au, the man is seem by me; and is formed, by the addition to the active base or ground-form of one of the following particles:—la, ngia, a, kia, hia, ina, tia, kina, na, ngia, mia, ria and whira; the particle selected for this purpose, being, chiefly, determined by the termination of the verb, though many of these passival endings are quite arbitrary in their use. Frequentatives (as we saw before, in the case of the Adjectives), are expressed by reduplications, as, kokoti, to cut; kotikoti, to cut into many pieces. Tense, is shewn by the use of verbal particles—adverbs, prepositions, pronouns, and the articles he and te placed in connection with the verbs. These verbal particles (which have no meaning in themselves), are e, ana, ha, kua, i, kia, hei, me, kaua, aua, and kei.

Thus the Present is formed by ka preceding the verb, or by e before and ana after it; as, kia rere te kaipuke ki Tauranga, the ship sails to Tauranga, etc.

The Imperfect by e and ana, and some word or words to show that the action was incomplete when referred to; as, kai penei inanahi e haere ana, at this time yesterday I was going.

The future Imperfect by ka or e before the verb, by ka before the verb and ai after it, or by ai alone after the verb; as, ka tere te waka aianei, the canoe will be adrift presently. Akuanei ano riro ai te kaipuke, to-day the ship will be gone.

The present and future, when formed by ka, are generally to be distinguished by the sense.

The Perfect has kua and i before the verb; as, kua ara mai te Karaiti i te mate, Christ has risen from death.

The Pluperfect, with kua before the verb, must be distinguished by the construction; as, ka penei inanaki kua tae matou ki Puketona, at this time yesterday we had arrived at Puketona.

The second Future, also indicated by kua, must, in like manner, be ascertained from the construction; as, e kore e po akuanei kua tae ahau ki Hokianga, before night I shall have arrived at Hokianga. The tenses of the subjunctive moods are indicated by help of conjunctions and adverbs; as, kua kite pea ahau i taua tangata otira e wareware ana ahau, perhaps I may have seen that man, but I forget.

The Moods are shewn—the Indicative by e; as, e ngaki ana ia te whenua,

he is cultivating the land. The Subjunctive by me; as, me kaua te marangai, etc., if there had not been bad weather, etc.

The Infinitive by kia and kei, and the Imperative by a great number of different modifications, the chief of which are the employment of kia, the absence of any particles whatever, or the prefixing of e to the future. Generally a passive form is used for the Imperative, as, karangatia e koe te tamaiti, let the child be called by you. The Imperative, is also further indicated by the use of maku, mau, mana, me, etc., in which, though the verb retains its active form, it is clearly used in a passive sense; as, me karanga e koe te tamaiti, the child must be called by you.

Dr. Maunsell thinks that the verbal particles have some correspondence with the auxiliary verbs in English; at the same time they clearly do not admit of the same varieties of application, while they cannot claim the rank of the verb substantive. He thinks, too, with M. Buschmann, that no tenses can be accurately defined except the Present, Past, and Future. The distinctions he shews between simple and compound tenses are much to the point, and his analysis of the Imperative in Maori is valuable for the accurate study of the language, but is too detailed for the purpose I have here in hand. In connection, however, with the verb, I ought to add that there are a considerable number of what are called Verbal Nouns—their general object being to secure niceties and distinctions of meaning. Thus, wanaunga is, relative; wanautanga, a birth; kiteanga, the opportunity of seeing a thing; kitenga, the act of seeing; wakanga, the carrying on a back; wakinga, a breaking, etc.

But, condensed, though my notice has necessarily been, I believe I have said enough to shew the general character of the verb in Maori; I proceed, therefore, now, to compare with it the verb in other dialects. The Tongan verb is characterised by its simplicity and regularity. It has but three tenses—past, present, and future—denoted by the signs, gooa, na, and me respectively, and three moods—the indicative, imperative, and potential. The first has no modal sign, the second neither modal nor temporal. The Subjunctive is marked by the modal sign ger. The order of constructions in the Indicative, is first, the sign of the tense, then the pronoun, and lastly the verb; except in the third person singular of each tense, where the pronoun is placed last. In the Dual and Plural, the pronouns ua and tolu follow the verb. Thus, the Present is denoted by gua, as, gua te alu, I go; the Past by na, prefixed to all persons, except the first, where it is changed to ne and joined to the personal pronoun u, as, ne u alu, I went. (The second persons, all through, are shewn by the form ger, as, gu ger alu, thou goest, etc.) The Future is indicated by te, except in the third person, where

it is changed to e and sometimes to teune, the pronoun being omitted; as e alu ia or teune alu, he will go. In the Imperative, in the second person, either the pronoun koi or the subject of the verb comes after it, but, in the first and second persons of the dual and plural, the pronouns tau and mo come before the verb and those, which distinguish the numbers, follow it, as, alu koi, go thou; tau alu, mo alu, etc., let us go (you and I), go ye (ye two). The Subjunctive is shewn by ger applied to any tense, as, ger te alu, ger ger alu, etc. In Tongan verbs, it would seem that the dual and plural are not carefully distinguished, the indefinite Plural (without ua and tolu) being constantly used. The Infinitive in Tongan is hardly distinguishable from an ordinary noun. Three words, my, atu, and angi are in constant use, with the general sense of “give” when verbs, and of “to” or “towards” when prepositions; hence, they are to be used, accordingly, as the first, second, or third person may follow, as, my ia giate au, give it to me; teu atu ia giate koi, I will give it to thee; angi ia giate ia, give it to him or her. Clearly, their chief object is to imply direction. Thus, of a is, to love; but “I love you” must be rendered not by gua te ofa koi, but by gua te of a atu giate koi. They also form parts of compound words, tálamg, talatu, talangi. It is a very general characteristic of all the Polynesian dialects that they love to use passive forms where we use the active for correct translation, and we have seen how fully supplied Maori is for the purpose of indicating the passive. Nearly similar forms (but much fewer in number) may be found in the other dialects. Thus, the Samoan has, a, ina, ia, fia, ngia, and tia; the Rarotongan, a, ia; the Mangarevan, ia; Tahitian, hia; and the Hawaiian, a, ia, hia, tia. M. Buschmann observes, that the use of the passive is equally characteristic of all the Malay languages, and he thinks he can detect the hia of the passive in the Marquesan kuhia. He adds his belief, that the character of the particle ua in Tahitian and Hawaiian (kaua in Rarotongan, kua in Maori, and gua in Tongan) marks a direct connexion between these tongues and the Malay and Kawi; holding that it is the same as the djoua of Malay, (houga of Javanese, and the djouga of Malay and Kawi, in all of which it is an adverb, with the heterogeneous meanings, of “also,” “only,” “thus,” “already,” “again,” etc. To this variety of meanings, he thinks, with William von Humboldt, is due the indiscriminating fashion in which it has come to be employed in the Polynesian idioms as the temporal particle of the verb, alike for the present, the imperfect, the perfect, and the pluperfect, the general definitions of which are anything but clear. It seems, indeed, to act as an auxiliary, in all the tenses, even in the future. Thus, in Marquesan, ua marks the present and perfect. Again, M. Buschmann further points out, the peculiar use of

auanei for the future in Tahitian and Hawaiian, and shews that te (the article before substantive nouns) and one of the local adverbs néi (here) or ra (there) seem, as it were, to embrace the Polynesian verb, so as to make it resemble a substantive accompanied by a demonstrative pronoun. The te before, and néia after the verb, makes the present in Tahitian, and te and ra, similarly placed, makes the imperfect. Occasionally, too, the adverbs are combined together, as, te first, then the verb, and then néi ra. The particles e and i are the most frequent auxiliaries to the Polynesian conjugation; they are found with all the tenses, excepting that i is not used with the future: they are found alone, or, joined with an adverb of time or place, are attached to the verb. In Tahitian, he gives the following uses—é—verb—ai—forming the future (in Maori, perfect and future; in Hawaiian, imperfect and future; in Rarotongan, é……éi).

i……ai—-present and perfect (same in Maori and Hawaiian;in Rarotongan i……éi).

é……néi—(in Hawaiian, present and future; Rarotongan, present).

i……néi—present (in Rarotongan, imperfect).

i……na—perfect.

é……ra—imperfect and perfect (Hawaiian, é……la, present).

i……ra—perfect.

ua….ra—present and past.

ra (alone after the verb), the past (so, la in Hawaiian).

The particles e and i, exhibit a peculiar construction throughout all the Polynesian dialects, with the exception of the Tongan, viz., that the subject, when it precedes the verb, is combined with one of the three prepositions, marking the genitive, and terminating in a; as, a, na, or ta. When the subject is represented by a personal pronoun (see, before the forms, a, o; na, no; ta, to;) it takes the form of the possessive. But this construction is not found in negative or interrogative phrases.

The imperative is indicated in Tahitian by é (as in Maori and Hawaiian), a (the ka of Maori and Rarotongan), ia (the kia of Maori), or éi placed before the verb; the last two particles being, in fact, the conjunction “that,” and the preposition indicative of motion. A joins itself with na after the verb. In Tahitian, as in Maori and Tongan, the verb, without any special sign, serves for the imperative. The Marquesan has the same simplicity of mood, with the use of é, as, noho oé, sit down (you, singular); noho, sit down (you, plural). The conjunction ia expresses the third person, as, ia tapu to oéinoa, hallowed be thy name (Maori, kia tapu tou ingoa). The prohibitory particles of the imperative, are, in Tahitian, auna (oua in

Tongan, kaua and aua in Maori) and éiaha; in Marquesan moï is used for the same purpose, and mai in Hawaiian.

The Infinitive is denoted in Tahitian and Hawaiian by é before the verb; and the past participle of the Passive is shewn by i, preceding the passive form of the verb itself, as in iritihia, “translated,” (v. Tahitian Bible of the British and Foreign Bible Society). The English substantive verb, which is not generally rendered in the Polynesian dialects, is, in some degree, represented by the Tahitian temporal particle ua (the ua of Hawaiian and gua of Tongan), and by the pronoun of the third person, ia.

M. Buschmann further shews that the Maori whaka (Tongan, faka; Rarotongan, aka; Tahitian, faa or haa; Marquesan, haka or haa; Hawaiian, hoo, sometimes haa) is, by no means, ong, the sign of the Causative verbs, but is found, not only with transitive and intransitive verbs, but, also, with substantives, adjectives, and adverbs. ^* There seems no sufficient principle for the employment of this prefix, and, possibly, all that can be said about it is, that it partakes the vague indeterminate character of a large number of other Polynesian particles. But, besides the particles connected with the verbs, to which I have already called attention, there are some others to be noticed, which M. Buschmann calls “particles de direction,” and which are variously employed. Thus, in Tahitian, two of these particles are directly opposed; mai (found in all the dialects in the same sense), “this way,” “towards me,” and atu (the same in Tongan and Maori, adu in Rarotongan, and aku in Hawaiian), “that way,” “towards you,” etc. There are two other particles aé (the same in Hawaiian, ake in Rarotongan, angi in Tongan) in the sense of “towards a third person,” and iho (the same in Hawaiian, io in Rarotongan), hifo in Tongan) in the sense of “downwards.” “Particles of direction” are employed after certain adverbs, whether simple or formed by a preposition, but their principal business is to accompany the verb, before the temporal adverbs, néi and ra, which are attached to it. Some other adverbs, however, which determine the character of the verb, as that of the passive hia, and the termination of the substantive raa, occupy the first place after the verb, and are, therefore, themselves, followed by the particle of direction. In the Marquesan, mai and atu are similarly used. Maori does not use ange. As mai essentially

belongs to the first person, we are prepared to find it constantly joined to the oblique cases, as, in Marquesan, ua tuu mai Jesu Mesia, Jesus gave it to us. In Nukuhivan, apéa maï oé, answer me; tuku maï, give me; mamui maï, follow me (Buschmann), in which latter case, it is equivalent to “here.” The simplest conception of atu, on the other hand, is that it belongs to the second person, as, in Marquesan, é nonoï atu au ia oé, I pray you.

It is hardly necessary that I should prolong this paper by any detailed examination of the many other Particles in general use, whether as Adverbs or Prepositions, the more so that I could not presume to write a disquisition on Polynesian Grammar, and have no object in view but to point out sufficient similarities or diversities among the different dialects to enable me to draw some conclusions as to the supposed or real connexion between the existing inhabitants of these islands. For the same reason I abstain, altogether, from any discussion of questions of Syntax, which could not, indeed, be examined with any advantage without far more data than I at present possess. I may hope to do so some day. With regard to both adverbs and prepositions, I may, however, observe, that many of the most important have been incidentally noticed in earlier parts of the present essay. Generally, it may be said of the adverbs, that almost any word may become such, by the mere fact of being placed after the verb, but that a large number of them, as Dr. Maunsell has remarked, require some preposition to exhibit their application; many, also, are derived from words belonging to other parts of speech, while some are scarcely adverbs at all, in our sense of the word, but, rather, periphrases. Dr. Maunsell exhaustively groups them under the several heads of adverbs of time, place, order, quantity, quality, affirmation, negation, comparison, interrogation, and intensity, thus shewing that in these, as in other matters relating to grammar, Maori is much more rich than any of the other dialects. Perhaps, however, we are led to think so, in some degree, from the fact that the language of New Zealand has been more minutely and carefully studied than even Tahitian or Hawaiian. The latter, in its vocabulary, is considerably fuller. M. Buschmann points out that there are a considerable number of Polynesian words, which, by the use of prepositions, vibrate, as it were, between the substantive and the adverb; thus, preceded by prepositions, they express adverbs, but are, in fact, local and temporal prepositions; sometimes, also, they have another preposition also following them. Thus, in Tahitian, roto (same in Maori; Tongan, loto; Hawaiian, loko), as, i roko, within;i roto i, ěi roto ia before a personal pronoun; těi roto i, in;maï roto maï, out of; i roto pu i or ia, within. Again, ore—(not

kore, in Maori and Rarotongan;korang, in Malay; kaurang, in Javanese;kolang in Tagala)—is treated as a Verb in Tahitian and preceded by the particles é or a.

The Adjective roa (same in Maori; loa, in Tongan and Hawaiian; dhava, in Javanese;lava, in Malagasi). “Long” is used in Tahitian for “very” and placed before the Adjective;so, also, ino, bad;and in Hawaiian and Marquesan, nui, great, as, oa nua, very high. On the subject of the Prepositions, I will only add that the following seem to be the simplest forms of them in Maori:—E, i, ki, hei, no, na, mo, ma, hei, o, a, ko, to, and that most of them may be recognised in the other dialects; as, in Tongan and Rarotongan—a, e, ki, i, o; mo, na, no, in Mangarevan, etc. M. Buschmann shows that in Tahitian i is employed in many and various ways—the same relations being found also in Marquesan. He considers it represents the i of the Hawaian, the ki of the Maori and Rarotongan, and the hing of Javanese; it is applied in Tahitian to all times, while é and éi have also a general similarity of sense;on the other hand, a is restricted to times future, and na and i na to times past, as is the case also with ne and ine in Hawaiian.

I here bring to a close the few observations I have thought it worth while to make on certain forms occurring in different Polynesian dialects, and, while I am sure that they admit of almost unlimited expansion, I venture to hope that these will be considered sufficient to determine the question that the leading Oceanic dialects—the Maori, Tongan, Tahitian, and Hawaiian—are the remains of one original and wide-spread language. It now only remains that I should attempt to draw some conclusions from the evidence adduced in the previous pages, so far at least as this seems to point to the ultimate origin of the Polynesian population. Now, I think it will be admitted that, whenever I have found in such books as I have had the opportunity of examining, any apparent connexion between the Polynesian and other peoples, I have, in all cases, endeavoured to notice them. Thus I have repeatedly called attention to similarities existing between the Malay languages and one or more of the Polynesian dialects, with this principal object, that I might confirm, as far as I could, the evidence brought forward by Mr. Thomson, in the Appendix to “Trans. N. Z. Inst.,” Vol. VI., before referred to. That there is some connexion, I do not suppose any one can doubt who will take the trouble of fairly considering Mr. Thomson's arguments. The question is, how has this arisen? Have we, in short, any further reasons to support this connexion, and is what Mr. Thomson has urged, sufficient to enable us to say, unhesitatingly, that the Polynesians are Malays? I hardly think so;for what we are sure of amounts to

scarcely more than this—that in certain Malay, or so-called Malay languages, some grammatical forms, and also a certain number of individual words are found, both of which are also met with in Polynesian, though, in most instances, under considerable modifications of form. Clearly if we cannot say that languages so near akin the one to the other as Greek and Sanskrit can be placed under the category of derived languages, still less can we assert this in the case of Polynesian as compared with Malay. I am rather inclined to think that all that can at present be reasonably affirmed on the subject is, that there must have been a time when these two populations (the Malay and the Polynesian) were living near together, probably in intimate connection, and, further, that a long interval of time has elapsed since this occurred, during which there has been—almost certainly—an intervention of other races wholly diverse from both. Taking into consideration all the available facts, I think we are justified in believing that Malay and Polynesian, alike, ultimately came from some part of Central Asia, though, even here, I must admit that we have hardly anything that can be called evidence, and that it is only guess work as to the line or lines they may have taken from Mongolia to the Western Pacific. As an hypothesis I would suggest it is likely that, as we know was the case with the great waves of emigration, which at a period probably more recent, proceeded westwards across Asia into Europe, there were several routes eastward also, distinct the one from the other, but all, in the end, reaching the ocean. The originally one people, thus divided, might, perhaps, never again have met till long after they had occupied the island abodes where we now find them. Such a separation would be amply sufficient—on the analogy of what we know has happened in the progress of the Aryan (or Indo-European) races—for all the modifications of speech now noticeable in the dialects to which I have referred. There is nothing unreasonable in the supposition that what we can trace in the instance of the wanderings westward of the races of Central Asia should be equally true of other wanderings, in this instance, to the East and the Pacific, even though we cannot trace back these migrations with the same clearness that we can those to the West. The same reasons that led to migrations in the one would avail to produce the other;the most probable of these being over-population, and scant provision of food and of other necessaries of life. On this hypothesis it seems to me probable that there might have been two principal waves of emigration Eastwards, one finding its course along the great river highway of the mighty Yang tze Kiang, and thus reaching the ocean in the latitude of 32° N., with, possibly, a smaller branch by the southern stream of the Si Kiang, or river of Canton, reaching in 23° N.

latitude. The upper and main division would thence have found a nearly connected chain of islands, as the Ladrones, Carolina, and Radach Chain, etc., and might thus ultimately have attained even the extreme distance of the Sandwich Islands. In the same way those of the smaller branch, by the river of Canton, might have reached Luzon and the other Philippine Islands, and, possibly, by the same Caroline Islands have passed on to the more Southern as well as Easterly groups of Polynesia, such as the Fiji, Tonga, New Zealand, Society, and Paumatoa groups. Of course, this view partakes altogether of the nature of a guess;but, so far as we know at present, I do not think there is any thing in it unreasonable.

The second main wave of emigration Eastwards, or rather South Eastwards, I suppose to have passed from Central Asia by the lines of the great rivers Brahmapootra, Irawaddy and Menam, thus impinging on the ocean at the South-east end of the Bay of Bengal and Gulf of Siam. These emigrants would, thence, naturally spread themselves in the direction of Tenasserim, the Malay Peninsula, Sumatra, Java, Borneo, etc., thus forming the ancestors of the present Malay races, though, as it seems most probable to me, at a period long antecedent to the 2,000 years, to which we are able, historically, to trace up the existing Malays. Now, if this theory of two or more lines of emigration has any consistency, and it be true that both Malays and Polynesians did come—it matters not how many years ago—from one original Asiatic source, some certain forms of speech, once correct in their ancestral homes, would be preserved by each wave as portions of a common heritage. The occurrence of similar grammatical forms, though perhaps few in number, would prove contact, if not relationship, at some period or other, while the absence of a large vocabulary of similar words would prove, also, a long and entire separation. We see the reverse of this in cases where the vocabulary is rich, but the grammatical words few or none. Thus, modern Turkish and Persian are loaded with Arabic words, but the one has not altered its Tatar or the other its Indo-European Grammar;on the other hand, France, which we know was once wholly Celtic, at the present moment, though still largely Celtic in race, has, with the exception of a few names of places, retained not one Celtic word in its spoken language. I am further induced to think that this view is confirmed by even the little we know of the Fiji and Tonga dialects, for which their grammar is sufficiently cognate with those of the other islands for their people to be generally included under the generic head of Polynesia. There are a great many words not Polynesian, and other words Polynesian originally but now altered (like tambu for tapu) to suit their organs of

pronunciation. ^* Tongan has been clearly shown by Mr. Thomson to have many remarkable resemblances to Malay, and may some day prove to be an intermediate link by way of the Marianne and Caroline Islands, at least this I take to be the drift of M. Freycinet's researches. We have no historical, or even traditional, records on this subject; but a glance at the map suggests the probability that Melanesians from New Caledonia (the nearest Negro islands) may have found their way to Fiji, if not to Tonga. As both these populations were equally illiterate, the success of one over the other, if not the result of trade between them, must have been due simply to brute force: it would not have been like that of the letter-less Franks over the comparatively civilized and refined Gallo-Romans. I may add that the existence, both in Viti and Tongan, of many consonantal sounds, unpronounceable by any pure Polynesian, but at the same time not averse to the genius of other languages, point, necessarily, to such an intermixture as I have suggested; but when or how this came about, I doubt if we shall ever be able to determine.

To recur to the native traditions: I have already stated the prevalent beliefs in New Zealand that the ancestors of the existing Maoris came from Hawaiki, and in all, or almost all, the islands a somewhat similar tradition is prevalent; in the Marquesas, indeed, the same name occurs unaltered. In general, however, this word has been slightly altered according to the consonantal system of each island, the varieties, according to Mr. Logan, being as follows:—

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Captain Cook (Vol. III. p. 69) evidently refers to the same place in the name he writes, Heawige. Generally, it may be stated, that the popular idea is that this Hawaiki was somewhere under the islands—a sort of Inferno, confirmed

by the Tongan myth (prevalent also in New Zealand) I have already noticed—that their Chief God fished them up from the bottom of the sea. ^* The general inference from the universal occurrence of this word so little changed in form, and with nearly the same meaning, affords a strong argument in favour of the unity of the Polynesian race, though I am not sure that we can accept Mr. Logan's arguments for the order in which the different islands were peopled, because we find the name of Hawaii in both Society and Sandwich Islands, as well as in the most Western Samoan group. It seems almost hopeless, with such data as we have, to attempt any conclusion as to which island first used the word or the name; but if, as I think is certain, the migration was from West to East, it is reasonable to believe that the Navigator Islands might have had it centuries before it reached Tahiti or the Sandwich Islands, provided the migration took the course which I have called the Southern-eastern line. With regard to the great distances of water that the migrating canoes would, in any case, have had to pass over, there is certainly not the difficulty at first apparent, for Williams, in his “Missionary Enterprize,” having also clearly shown that there is not much more difficulty on the score of adverse winds. No doubt, over a considerable belt of the Pacific, East winds may be considered as the most prevailing; but not so as altogether to exclude the North and North-west, which often blow for days together. Kotzebue, in his voyage (Vol. II., p. 122) met with a native who had been driven 1,500 miles, with three companions from Ulea in the Caroline Islands, and who, as he had started from the East, still maintained that he had continued in that course; and, quite recently, a canoe was found 1,800 miles from its home; but the people in it were not starving, having caught fish enough for their support; moreover we know that, to this day, the Illanau people make annual voyages of more than 2,000 miles in quest of slaves and other plunder.

I have before noticed that Tasman speaks of large double canoes as existing in his day on the coasts of New Zealand. Vessels of this

capacity seem to have gone out of fashion, at all events they are rarely now seen at any of the islands. Moerenhout, however, in his interesting voyage, states that he found such canoes in use among the people of the Paumatoa group, and with this unusual facility of construction, that they could be sailed whichever way their owners pleased by shifting their sails and rudder. Such vessels would, doubtless, have been quite fit to traverse very great distances. I believe that boats similar to these may be occasionally seen in the Fiji and Caroline Islands.

I have already noticed that as you proceed from West to East it is a peculiarity of the Polynesian languages that they have fewer consonants, till at the Marquesas those are reduced to six, and it has been very generally asserted that this loss is a striking sign of degeneracy. But I am not so sure that this is a true view to take.

Many of these changes, or rather modifications, are, I suspect due to climate, and certainly this is the case in well-known European examples. We may have a great, a natural respect for Highlanders; they may be, as they often are in our minds, the symbols of all that is manly, or brave, or virtuous; but it does not follow, indeed is not true, that the Italians, for instance, are as a body an effeminate race, though their language, from its vocalic character, lends itself more readily to love and music than the harsher languages of the North. Nor, indeed, is this true among the Islanders themselves. If the so-called effeminate Marquesans have only six consonants, the Maoris have but two more, and assuredly effeminacy could not be predicated of them as a race. Let us look a little nearer home, and see what has been done in the changes of the Old Classical Latin in the Romance dialects, and when we find in modern French such words as Augustus expressed by Aôut (only two vowel sounds, maturus by “mûr,” ligare, by lier, age (through étage) from œtas, let us not accuse even the Hawaiians or Marquesans as though a prevalence of vowels and a corresponding paucity of consonants was any proof of weakness in a language. Nor do I believe, as I have hinted previously, that, as a matter of fact, the Polynesian dialects are as deficient in vocal or consonantal sounds as we should infer that they are from the grammars and dictionaries already published. I suspect we have done the native languages much injustice, partly from the ignorance (not an ignorance worthy of blame), on the part of those who first reduced them to writing, of any principles of philology, and partly, also, from these varying sounds having been committed to paper by persons whose ears had not been accurately trained to the recognition of the niceties between sounds apparently similar. Had the Missionary Alphabet, drawn up chiefly by Professor Lepsius and Max Müller, been

“6th. This branch of the Polynesian race possessed a very low standard of civilization, using only rudely chipped stone implements, whilst the Maoris, their direct descendents (by which Dr. Haast evidently meant “successors”) had, when the first Europeans arrived in New Zealand, already reached a high state of civilization in manufacturing fine polished stone implements and weapons.

“7th. The Moa-hunters, who cooked their food in the same manner as the Maoris of the present day do, were not cannibals.

“8th. The Moa-hunters had means to reach the Northern Island, whence they procured obsidian.

“9th. They also travelled far into the interior of this island to obtain flint for the manufacture of their primitive stone implements.

“10th. They did not possess implements of Nephrite (greenstone).

“11th. The polishing process of stone implements is of considerable age in New Zealand, as more finished tools have been found in such positions that their great antiquity cannot be doubted, and which is an additional proof of the long extinction of the Moa.”

Many of these “conclusions” will be considered sufficiently startling by those who take the trouble to analyse the grounds upon which Dr. Haast affects to have arrived at them, but with a view to the sequel, and in order that no injustice may be done to Dr. Haast with reference to such of them as are specially under consideration in this paper, I think it right to extract from his publications the various passages in which he attempts to support them either by argument or evidence.

“Another argument,” says Dr. Haast, ^* “in favour of this supposition, namely, that Dinornis must have become extinct much earlier than we might infer from the occurrence of bones lying amongst the grass, is the fact, proved abundantly by careful enquiries, that the Maoris know nothing whatever about these huge birds, although various statements have been made to the contrary, lately repeated in England; however, as this question stands in close relation to the age of the Moa-hunting race, I shall leave it until I proceed to this portion of my task.

“The testimony that Moa bones have been found lying loose amongst the grass on the shingle of the plains, together with small heaps of so-called Moa stones, where probably a bird has died and decayed, is too strong to be set aside altogether, or to be explained by the assumption that the bones became exposed, as I suggested before, through the original vegetation having been burnt extensively. We are, therefore, almost compelled to

conclude that the bones have, in some instances, never been buried under the soil, but remained lying on the surface where the birds died. I can, however, not conceive that Moa bones could have lain in such exposed positions for hundreds, if not thousands, of years without decaying entirely. Even if we assume that the birds have been extinct for only a century or so, it is inconceivable that the natives, who have reliable traditions extending back for several hundred years, and of many minor occurrences, should leave no account of one of the most important events which could happen to a race of hunters, namely the extinction of their principal means of existence. At the same time, the pursuit of these huge birds to a people without fire-arms or even bows and arrows, although they might have possessed boomerangs or a similar wooden weapon, must have been so full of vital importance, excitement, and danger, that the traditions of their hunting exploits would certainly have outlived the accounts of all other events happening to a people of such character.

“The Rev. J. W. Stack, with whom I repeatedly conversed upon this subject, fully agrees with me that the absence of any traditions places an almost insurmountable obstacle in the way of our supposing that the Moa bones found lying on the plains or hill-sides are of such recent origin as their position might at first suggest.”

Further on in the same paper (p. 73), he says—

“It has been the fashion to assert that the present native inhabitants of New Zealand, the Maoris, are the race who have hunted and exterminated the Moa, and there are even natives who declare that their fathers have seen the Moa and eaten its flesh. If such assertions could be proved, our researches would have been much simplified. It will, therefore, be my duty to examine the data upon which such statements rest, and to bring, in my turn, what I consider overwhelming evidence to the contrary, namely, that the forefathers of the Maoris not only have neither hunted nor exterminated the Moa, but that they knew nothing about it.”

In support of the positions thus taken, Dr. Haast quotes not only the Rev. Mr. Stack, but also the Rev. W. Colenso and Mr. Alexander Mackay, a Native Commissioner, all of whom, he tells us, possessed excellent opportunities of obtaining accurate information upon this and other subjects connected with the present New Zealanders.

With regard to the Rev. Mr. Stack, he informs us that that gentleman did mention the existence, amongst the Maoris, of a proverb relating to the Moa, namely, “He Moa Kaihau,” translated, “a wind-eating Moa,” in allusion to a supposed habit of the bird of keeping its mouth open when running against the wind, (a habit, by the way, which exists in the Ostrich,

and was only likely to become known, as regards the Moa, from direct observation), but he says (erroneously, however, as will appear from the extracts hereafter given from Mr. Stack's own writings on the subject) that “this was the only trace Mr. Stack could discover in the sayings of the ancient inhabitants, relative to the existence and habits of those birds.” He then proceeds to detail, at great length, the circumstances under which he alleges that Moa bones and other animal remains had been found in kitchen middens, in what he terms “a Moa-hunter's encampment,” at the Rakaia in the Province of Canterbury, particularly noting the discovery, amongst these remains, “of quantities of obsidian, identical in lithological character with that obtained near Tauranga.”

Tauranga, as you are aware, is in the Province of Auckland, and I think I am justified in asserting that no obsidian has ever been found, in situ, in any part of the South Island, or even to the southward of the great volcanic system in the centre of the North Island.

The fact thus mentioned is, as you will find in the sequel, of very great importance when taken in connection with the information recently given to me.

But Dr. Haast, although he mentions the discovery in this encampment of stone implements and other articles of apparent Maori origin, dissociates them, at all events throughout the papers published in 1871, from those which he assigns to the “Moa-hunters,” arguing, moreover, that it was not until long after the extinction of the Moa that the encampment in question was used by the present race.

If this fact were really well established, it would be a very interesting one; but a careful consideration of Dr. Haast's own statements has entirely failed to satisfy me that he was justified in drawing the line of demarcation above referred to, or, indeed, in dissociating the Maori at all from the destruction of the Moa.

With respect to the mode in which his supposed Moa-hunters killed their prey, he says:—^*

“Amongst all the stone implements, there was not a single one from which we might draw an inference how the Moa-hunters killed their prey; but, as the birds lived doubtless in droves, they were probably driven by men or dogs towards the apex of the triangle, either to be killed with heavy wooden implements or stone spear-heads fixed to staves, to be snared, or to be caught in flax nets. Another method of killing them, if we assume that the Moa-hunters were allied to the Australians, may have

been by the use of the boomerang, or a similar weapon, to be hurled at their prey.”

Upon the question whether his Moa-hunters were cannibals, he says:—^*

“Bearing in mind what the Hon. W. Mantell states in respect to the occurrence of the bones of men, together with those of the Dinornis, dog, and seal in the kitchen middens of the North Island, I concluded that the Moa-hunters must have been cannibals; however, the most careful search, continued for a number of days, has never brought to light the smallest portion of a human bone at the Rakaia. And, although this evidence is merely of a negative character, it is strong enough to induce the belief that the Moa-hunters were not addicted to anthropophagy, as Mr. Mantell's observations might suggest. Had the inhabitants of the Rakaia encampment been cannibals, there is no doubt in my mind that, amongst the thousand fragments of bones passing through my hands, at least some of the human skeleton should have appeared to bear witness. Mr. F. Fuller, who lately discovered a Moa-hunter encampment in Tumbledown Bay, near Little River, found, close to it amongst some sand-hills, the traces of a cannibal feast; but there was nothing to connect the one with the other.”

And again—^†

“Mr. Mantell is reported to have stated that there was evidence that cannibalism prevailed at the time the Moas were used for food, but only in the North Island, confirming my observations made at the Rakaia and elsewhere, that the Moa-hunters in this island were not anthropophagi. However, I still doubt very much whether the inhabitants of the North Island, in the same era, were cannibals, as I believe that the same favorable localities, formerly selected by the Moa-hunters, were also used by the Maoris as camping grounds, by which the mixture of the kitchen middens of both races has been produced. Even were we to admit that the inhabitants of each island had belonged to a different race, or that they had not communication with each other, so that different habits of vital importance had become formed in each of them, the discovery of obsidian in the kitchen middens of this island clearly proves that such arguments would be fallacious. The pieces of obsidian being of such frequent occurrence, we are obliged to assume that regular communication existed between both islands, and it is difficult to conceive that, under these circumstances, the one island should have been inhabited by cannibals and not the other. Nor could different races have inhabited the two islands during the exter-

mination of the Moa, and the southern race have gone to the North Island to obtain the much coveted obsidian, without fear of being devoured by the more savage tribes inhabiting it.”

With reference to the name “Moa” as used by the Maoris, Dr. Haast says—^*

“I have been told that the present race inhabiting New Zealand must have been cotemporaneous with the Dinornis, because the word Moa forms part of the designation of several localities in New Zealand, but this occurrence might be explained in several ways. In the first instance, it is very possible that the word Moa in those names is only the alteration of another word in course of time, because words having the same, or nearly the same sound, are not unfrequent in the Maori language, such as moa, a bed in a garden, a certain stone; moana, sea; moa-ta, to be early; moe, sleep or dream; moho, a bird; mou, for thee; or, moua, the back of the neck; or that the natives used the expression to designate localities where Moa bones were principally found. Another explanation might be given by pointing out that the word Moa is used in connection with other birds. Thus I may quote from the Rev. Richard Taylor's ‘A Leaf from the Natural History of New Zealand,’ Wellington, 1848, the following expressions:—’Moa kerua, a black bird with red bill and feet, a water hen; ‘Moa koru, very small rail; Moeriki, rail of the Chatham Islands.’ And may we not therefore conclude that if the Maoris had known anything of the Dinornis, the present representative of the genus, which, in appearance, form, and plumage, most probably closely resembles some of the extinct gigantic forms, would have in preference been named by them Moa-iti, or some similar appellation, instead of calling the Apteryx Owenii, Kiwi, from its peculiar call; and the Apteryx Australis, Tokoeka and Roa? The fact that they added instead, to the names of birds resembling somewhat the domestic fowl, the prefix moa, might be taken as an additional confirmation of the probability that the theories advanced by me are correct. And how can we reconcile the difference in the statements concerning the plumage, which, according to one account, consisted of magnificent plumes on the head and tail, whilst, according to the other, it resembled that of the Apteryx? Another point of importance must strike the observer, concerning Maori nomenclature. If the present race had known anything of the Dinornis, should we not expect that several and very distinct names would have been preserved to us for the different species? We may safely presume that the Moa-hunting races had different names for the huge Dinornis giganteus, robustus, and for Palap-

teryxingens, for the smaller and more slender species of Dinornis casuarinus and didiformis, as well as for the stout-set Dinornis elephantopus and crassus; which, moreover, were doubtless distinguished by different habits and modes of life. Instead of that, we find them speaking of the Moa indiscriminately, a word extensively used all over the Polynesian Islands.”

In the third of the papers above referred to, Dr. Haast criticises the views of Dr. Hector, Mr. Murison, and Mr. Mantell upon the subject under discussion, and, notwithstanding some very cogent evidence to the contrary, adduced by those gentlemen and others, sums up the discussion by stating the “conclusions” already extracted.

I think it necessary, however, before proceeding further, to call especial attention to the entire absence from these papers of any evidence relevant to the proof of the first, fourth, and fifth “conclusions.” The first of these Dr. Haast probably adopted in order to support his theory that New Zealand was entirely submerged up to the close of the Tertiary period, and, on its re-emergence, was subjected, during Pleistocene times, to an universal glaciation similar to that of Greenland and the Antarctic lands.

But whence he derives the Dinornidæ and his wild dog is nowhere even suggested, unless, indeed, the language in which the first “conclusion” is couched admits of the assumption that he believes in special creation; whilst the fourth and fifth involve additional difficulties which are too palpable to need specifying. It would be well if Dr. Haast would supplement his papers on this part of the subject, by giving the evidence or reasoning, as the case may be, which led him to the conclusions in question.

Dr. Haast's statements as to the absence of any Maori traditions relative to the Moa, were in some degree supported by the Rev. Mr. Stack in a paper read before the Philosophical Institute of Canterbury, on the 5th of April, 1871, ^* in which the reverend gentleman, after referring to the invasion of the Middle Island by the Ngaitahu, a section of the Ngatikahungunu tribe, some 200 to 250 years ago, says—

“Ngaitahu, having incorporated the remnants of the two preceding tribes, the traditions of these tribes would become the property of Ngaitahu, and be handed down with the rest of their tribal lore to posterity. Now, while these traditions are full and distinct in everything else to which they relate, and extend as far back as to events that occurred before the migration from Hawaiki, they only contain very vague and meagre references to the Moa. It is inconceivable that an observant and intelligent people like the Maoris should be without traditions of such exciting sport as Moa-

hunting had they ever engaged in it. And these traditions, did they exist, would not be confined to particular localities, but would be met with in every part of these islands in which the remains of the Dinornis are found. I have occasionally heard in the North Island stories of Moa hunts, but they were regarded by all, but perhaps those who related them, as pure fabrications. In common with most people, I was long under the impression that the extinction of the Moa was an event of recent date, and hastened by the Maori. I took it for granted that the natives only required to be questioned to afford every information regarding its nature and habits, and the causes of its disappearance. Further enquiry, however, has led me to think that the Maoris were not Moa-hunters, and that the bones that strewed the plains of Canterbury were lying there at a period anterior to the last migration from Hawaiki.”

He, however, says:—^*

“But how are we to account for any allusions to the Moa at all in Maori poetry and proverbs, unless the people were familiar with it? Dr. Thompson, as quoted by the President (Dr. Haast), says, ‘That the Moa was alive when the first settlers came, is evident from the name of this bird being mixed up with their songs and stories.’ But Dr. Thompson was probably not aware that the Maoris were familiar with a large land-bird, which they called the Moa before ever they came to New Zealand. The name by which the Cassowary is known in the islands is Moa, and as it somewhat resembles the Dinornis in form, an exaggerated description of it would be a sufficiently accurate description of that gigantic bird to mislead any one not fully prepared to question the knowledge of the Maoris on the subject, into supposing that they were perfectly familiar with its form and habit. I remember hearing, when a child, of the beautiful plumes that were found at the top of the cliff which overhung a cavern somewhere on the East Coast of the North Island, where the last of the Moas hid itself. But no one I ever met had seen them. Those who described them had only heard of them from others. It is quite possible that Moa feathers may have been found and used as ornaments; but it is not necessary to believe they were so, to account for the description the Maoris give of them. The feathers of the Cassowary are used as ornaments in the islands where they exist, and probably the ancestors of the Maori brought some away with them. These, from their rareness, would be highly prized and carefully preserved, and when all recollection of the Hawaikian Moa had faded away, would be thought to belong to that Moa of which remains were everywhere visible. In the same way we may account for the saying regarding the toughness of the Moa's flesh, which could only be

thoroughly cooked with the twigs of the Koromiko, by supposing that it was the flesh of the Hawaikian Moa, and not of the Dinornis, that was meant. But, unless the Maoris saw the Dinornis alive, how did they know that the bones they found strewing the earth were the bones of a bird? The largest form of land animal life with which they were familiar on their arrival here was that of a bird which they called a Moa. Probably they found many skeletons of the Dinornis lying in such positions as clearly to indicate its form when alive. Being careful observers of nature, they would note the resemblance between the skeletons they found here, and the skeletons of the Moa with which they were acquainted in the islands, and would at once conclude that they were identical, and call them by the same name.”

It will be observed that Mr. Stack does not go the same length that Dr. Haast does as to the time which has elapsed since the Moa became extinct, although he supports the Doctor in his opinion that its extinction preceded the arrival of the present race in these islands.

But whilst he goes no further than this in supporting his leader's “conclusions,” he calls upon us to accept a series of very remarkable propositions, which he makes on his own account:—

Firstly, that the bones found on the surface of the plains in various parts of the North Island existed there before the introduction of the present race into New Zealand—an event which careful inquiry leads us to carry back to a very remote period.

Secondly, that the present race must necessarily have migrated from some place in which either the Cassowary, or some other bird of the same kind existed, and was so commonly used as food that the very structure of its skeleton was matter of ordinary knowledge amongst the inhabitants.

Thirdly, that, upon the discovery by the immigrants of the present race, of Moa bones on the surface of the plains, they would at once have assigned them to birds similar in structure to, but of immensely greater size than the Casswary—a notable feat in comparative anatomy which would entitle the Maori who performed it to rank with Owen or Cuvier,—and, moreover, that the occurrence of bones under such conditions would lead them to hand down to their posterity, exaggerated accounts of the appearance and habits of a mythical bird; of the mode of hunting and cooking it; of the nature of its flesh; and of other matters connected with it which could possess no possible interest for the numberless generations of Maoris who could never have an opportunity of understanding such stories.

It will, however, be observed in the sequel, how naturally all that Mr. Stack has stated fits in with the information which I am about to communicate to you, and how needless it becomes to resort to improbable assump-

tions in order to apply “the allusions to the Moa found in the Maori poetry and proverbs,” and the descriptions they give “of the appearance and habits of the birds,” and the fact that” the name of the Moa is mixed up with their songs and stories.”

On the other hand, Dr. Hector, Mr. Murison, Mr. Mantell, Sir George Grey, Dr. Buller, the Reverend Mr. Taylor, and many others who have enjoyed far greater opportunities of obtaining information on the subject than those who are quoted so approvingly by Dr. Haast, strongly dissent from the views propounded in his papers, and have adduced a large mass of facts relevant to the proof that the extinction of the Moa is a matter of comparatively recent date.

As bearing upon the special information set forth in the sequel, I call attention to the following passages from their several writings on this subject.

In a paper, by Dr. Hector, read before the Otago Institute in September, 1871, ^* in which he described the bones of an embryo Moa chick, found with the egg which had contained them,—and the cervical vertebræ of a Moa of large size, upon the posterior aspect of which, the skin, partly covered with feathers, was still attached by the shrivelled muscles and ligaments,—and a remarkably perfect skeleton, in which portions of the ligaments, skin, and feathers were still attached to some of the bones,—all of which were discovered in the Province of Otago, the Doctor says:—

“The above interesting discoveries render it probable that the inland district of Otago, at a time when its grassy plains and rolling hills were covered with a dense scrubby vegetation, or a light forest growth, was where the giant, wingless birds of New Zealand lingered till latest times. It is impossible to convey an idea of the profusion of bones which, only a few years ago, were found in this district, scattered on the surface of the ground, or buried in the alluvial soil in the neighborhood of streams and rivers. At the present time this area of country is particularly arid as compared with the prevalent character of New Zealand. It is perfectly treeless—nothing but the smallest sized shrubs being found within a distance of sixty or seventy miles. The surface features comprise round-backed ranges of hills of schistoze rock with swamps on the top, deeply cut by ravines that open out on basin-shaped plains, formed of alluvial deposits that have been everywhere moulded into beautifully regular terraces to an altitude of 1,700 feet above sea level. That the mountain slopes were at one time covered with forest, the stumps and prostrate trunks of large trees, and the mounds and pits on the surface of the ground which mark old forest land, abundantly

testify, although it is probable that the intervening plains have never supported more than a dense thicket of shrubs, or were partly occupied by swamps. The greatest number of Moa bones were found where rivers debouch on the plains; and that at a comparatively late period these plains were the hunting-grounds of the aboriginies, can be proved almost incon-testably. Under some overhanging rocks in the neighbourhood of the Clutha River, at a place named by the first explorers “Moa Flat,” from the abundance of bones which lay strewn on the surface, rude stone flakes of a kind of stone not occurring in that district, were found by me in 1862, associated with Moa bones. Forty miles further in the interior, and at the same place where the Moa's neck was recently obtained, Captain Fraser, in 1864, discovered what he described to me as a manufactory for such flakes and knives of chert as could be used as rough cutting instruments in a cave formed by overhauging rocks, sheltered only from the South-west storms, as if an accumulation by a storm-stayed party of natives. With these were also associated Moa bones and other remains. Again, at the top of the Carrick Mountains, which are in the same district, but to an altitude of 5,000 feet above the sea, the same gentleman discovered a gully, in which were numerous heaps of bones, and along with them native implements of stone, amongst which was a well-finished cleaver of blue slate (Pl. VII., fig. 5), and also a coarsely made hornstone cleaver, the latter of a material that must have been brought from a very great distance.

“Still clearer evidence that, in very recent times, the natives travelled through the interior, probably following the Moa as a means of subsistence, like natives in countries where large game abounds, was obtained in 1865-6 by Messrs. J. and W. Murison. At the Maniototo Plains, bones of several species of Dinornis, Aptornist, Aptery, large Rails, Stringops, and other birds are exceedingly abundant in the alluxium of a particular stream, so much so that they are turned up by the plough with facility. Attention was arrested by the occurrence, on the high ground terrace which bounds the valley of this stream, of circular heaps composed of flakes and chips of chert, of a description that occurs only in large blocks along the base of the mountains at a mile distant. This chert is a very peculiar rock, being a ‘Cemented Water Quartz’ or sandy gravel converted into quartzite, by infiltration of silicious matter. The resemblance of the flakes to those they had seen described as found in the ancient kitchen middens, and a desire to account for the great profusion of Moa bones on a lower terrace shelf nearer the margin of the stream, led the Messrs. Murison to explore the ground carefully, and, by excavating in likely spots, they found a series of circular pits partly lined with stones, and containing, intermixed with charcoal, abundance of Moa bones and egg-shells, together with bones of

the dog, the egg-shells being in such quantities that they consider that hundreds of eggs must have been cooked in each hole. Along with theses were stone implements of various kinds (reduced to one-third natural size in Pl. VII., figs. 1 to 4) and of several other varieties of rock besides the chert which lies on the surface. The form and contents of these cooking ovens correspond exactly with those described by Mantell, in 1847, as occurring on the sea coast; and among the stone implements which Mantell found in them, he remembers some of them to have been of the same chert which occurs in situ at this locality, 50 miles in the interior. The greater number of these chert specimens found on the coast are, with the rest of the collection, in the British Museum. There is another circumstance which incidently supports the view that while the Moas still existed in great numbers, the country was open and regularly traversed by the natives engaged in hunting. Near the old Maori ovens on the coast, Mantell discovered a very curious dish made of steatite, a mineral occurring in New Zealand on the Coast, rudely carved on the back in the Maori fashion, measuring twelve by eight inches, and very shallow. The natives at the time recognised this dish by tradition, and said there were two of them. It is very remarkable that, since then, the fellow-dish has been discovered by some gold-diggers in the Manuherikia Plain, and was used on an hotel counter at the Dunstan Township as a match box, till it was sent to England, and, as I am informed, placed in a public Museum in Liverpool.

“Along with the trimmed chert flakes, the Messrs. Murison found polished adzes of aphanite, and even jade, which shews that the hunting natives had, in addition to the flake knives, the same implements as those which are so common among the natives at the present day, though their use is now superseded by iron.

“In the ovens on the coast, besides flakes and rough knives of chert and flint, are found flake knives of obsidian, a rock which only occurs in the Volcanic District of the North Island, and also adzes and axes of every degree of finish and variety of material. Although there is no positive evidence, in the latter case, that more highly finished implements were in use by a people cotemporaneous with the Moa, whose remains, collected by human agency, are so abundant in the same place, nevertheless the fact of a similar association occurring far in the interior, affords strong presumptive evidence on this point, as the finely finished implements must have been carried inland, and to the same spot where the Moa remains occur, to be used at native feasts, of which these bones are the only other existing evidences.”

Dr. Hector then refers to the evidence afforded by the contents of the kitchen middens in the North Island, of the co-existence of the Moa and the Maori, and points out that Mr. W. D. Murison had suggested how infallibly the wholesale consumption of eggs, which were evidently highly prized as an article of food, must have led to their rapid extinction of the birds, without its being necessary that the birds themselves should be actually destroyed. With respect to the probability of still finding a living specimen, Dr. Hector says—“The whole of the Eastern District of the South Island of New Zealand back to the Southern Alps, was completely surveyed and mapped as far back as 1862, and had been thoroughly explored at least ten years before that date, without any of these gigantic birds being met with; but there is a large area of rugged mountainous country, especially in the South-west District of Otago, that even to the present time is only imperfectly known. The mountain sides in this region are covered with open fagus forest, in which Kiwis, Kakapos, and other expiring forms of apterous birds, are still to be found in comparative abundance, but where we could scarcely expect to meet with the larger species. Nevertheless, owing to the peculiar configuration of this country, the mountains afford very extensive areas, above the forest limit, which are covered with alpine shrubs and grasses, where it is not impossible that a remnant of this giant race may have remained to very recent times. The exploration, however, to which the country was subjected during the last few years, by parties of diggers prospecting for gold, forbids the hope that any still exist. I may here mention that on one of the flat-topped mountains, near Jackson's Bay, which I visited in January, 1863, I observed, at an altitude of 4000 feet, numerous well-beaten tracks, about sixteen inches wide, intersecting the dense scrub in all directions, and which, owing to the height of the scrub, could only have been formed in the first instance by the frequent passage of a much larger bird than either the Kiwi or Kakapo, which, judging from their droppings, were the only birds that now resorted to them. On the sides of the tracks, especially near the upper confines of the forest, are shallow excavations, two or three feet in diameter, that have much the appearance of having been scraped for nests. No pigs or any other introduced animal having penetrated to this part of the country, it appears manifest that these are the tracks of some large indigenous animal, but, from the nature of the vegetation, it is probable that such tracks may have been for a very long period in disuse, except by the smaller ground birds, without becoming obliterated.”

“The above facts and arguments in support of the view that the Moa survived to very recent times are similar to those advanced at a very early period after the settlement of the Colony, by Walter Mantell, who had the

advantage of direct information on the subject from a generation of natives that has passed away. As the first explorer of the artificial Moa beds, his opinion is entitled to great weight. Similar conclusions were also drawn by Buller, who is personally familiar with the facts described in the North Island, in an article that appeared in the “Zoologist” for 1864. The fresh discovery, therefore, of well-preserved remains of the Moa, only tends to confirm and establish this view, and it would have been unnecessary to enlarge on the subject by the publication of the foregoing notes, which were long since written, but for the dissimilar conclusions arrived at by Dr. Haast in a recent address to the Canterbury Institute, which, from the large amount of interesting and novel matter it contains, will doubtless have a wide circulation.”

Mr. W. D. Murison, in a paper also read before the Otago Institute, in September, 1871, ^* after referring to the papers by Dr. Haast, already alluded to, says:—

” It is not my intention, however, to follow Dr. Haast in the interesting investigations he made. I have indicated some of the leading points of his exhaustive address, and I must pass on to my own observation. At the foot of Roughbridge, where the Puke-toi-toi Creek enters the Maniototo Plain, I assisted in forming a station some ten years ago; and although I had had occasion to observe, near the coast and in other parts of the interior, the bones of the Moa, I was at once struck with the frequency of their occurrence at this place, as well as with the excellent state of preservation in which they were found. Scarcely a hole could be dug without some of these remains being exposed, and when the land came to be cultivated, bones and fragments of egg-shells in great number were laid bare by the plough. The bones most frequently picked up under these conditions were those of the feet of the larger species of the Dinornis, and the femur and tibia of the Aptornis—a bird which stood some three feet high, whose remains are rarely met with in other localities. It was not till 1865, however, that any discovery of cooking places was made. These were first observed by my brother, when, in riding along the banks of the creek, he noticed a chain of hollows, which he conjectured were Maori ovens filled up.

“Further investigations showed that they had been used for cooking the Moa, great quantities of bones being discovered in each oven that was examined. The ovens lay from ten to fifteen yards from the creek, and were covered with about six inches of silt. Mixed with the pieces of half-charred bones were innumerable fragments of Moa egg-shells. In some of the cooking places these latter were found in layers, showing that a vast

number of eggs must have been consumed as food; and scattered through the ovens were rude chert implements, many of which bore signs of having been used. Most of these were fashioned like knives, and had been employed, no doubt, to cut the flesh and sinews of the bird. Some heavier implements were also found;one of these was shaped like a cleaver, and had probably been used to break the large bones. In one oven the jaw of a young dog was discovered, mixed up with the bones and knives; and from the same place were taken out several fragments of polished stone implements. A great deal of importance is to be attached to the discovery of the latter under such conditions, as, if it is conceded that the polished implements and the chert flakes were used by the same people, Dr. Haast's theory of a palæolithic period and a neolithic period for New Zealand will have to be abandoned. The two different kinds of implements have, according to Dr. Haast, been found at the same spot, but he thinks that careful research will prove that they have not been used at the same time, nor by the same people. On the banks of the Little Rakaia, greenstone adzes and other polished Maori implements have been turned up by the plough; but he explains that it is known that the Maoris frequented the locality, on account of it being favourable fishing ground. In the case of the Puke-toi-toi Creek, however, it is unlikely that the natives ever visited the spot with any other object than that of Moa-hunting. There is a small volume of water in the creek, and there being no eels, there is nothing to attract the natives to the locality. Even such a common article of food as the Unio—a fresh water mollusc, which is to be met with in great quantities in the Taieri River, some four miles distant—does not inhabit the creek. It appears tolerably certain, therefore, that the Moa-hunters were the only people who ever visited this encampment, as no known means of subsistence is to be procured nearer than the Taieri River. I think it clearly established, from what I have stated, that the Moa-hunters used both polished and rudely-fashioned stone implements. The latter were easily made, and must have been of greater service in cutting the flesh of the Moa than any of the polished tools we know of. On the terrace above the ovens, and within about twenty yards of them, was found the place where those rude knives had evidently been manufactured. Traces of fire were to be seen, full of innumerable fragments of chert, and all among the fires broken stone knives could be picked up. A further examination of the debris of those fires, which had been kindled on the flat surface of the terrace, showed that numerous fragments of egg-shell were mixed up with the chips. This looked as if those who were watching the stones, which were being heated to be broken up for knives, had passed away the time by cooking omelettes. There can be no doubt that the egg of the Moa formed

a favourite article of food with those hunters, from the frequency of the occurrence of egg-shells in the ovens, and this circumstance very naturally suggested the idea that the extermination of the bird may have been brought about by this cause. The nests would be easily discovered, as the country was generally open and grassy, with patches of low scrub at the foot of the hills. The encampment I have referred to was in the midst of a clump of Rorokio, burnt patches of which were found on the low grounds in many parts of the interior when the first European settlers occupied the country. Chert knives, some of which bore signs of having been used, have been found scattered over a large area of ground in the vicinity of the encampment, and I should add that several polished stone axes have been found on or near the surface of the ground in the immediate neighbourhood. Upon the whole, my observations have led me to different conclusions from those of Dr. Haast, Mr. Colenso, and the Rev. Mr Stack. The former admits, in referring to certain researches of Mr. Mantell in the North Island, that, ‘if further investigations of these interesting localities would prove, beyond a doubt, that really the bones of man, moa, and dog, with flint chips and true Maori implements, occur together, and have not been mixed up accidentally, the present indigenous race having chosen the same favourable spots for their camping ground as the Moa-hunters did before, the question, so far as the Northern Island is concerned, would soon be settled.’ I contend that, so far as the interior of this Province is concerned, an analysis of the Puke-toi-toi cooking places has proved that the Moa has lived in comparatively recent times, and that the Moa-hunters were, in all probability, the progenitors of the race now inhabiting the island.”

Sir George Grey, in a letter to the Zoological Society of London, in 1870, wrote as follows:—^*

“The natives all know the word ‘Moa,’ as describing the extinct bird, and when I came to New Zealand, twenty-five years ago, the natives invariably spoke to me of the Moa as a bird well-known to their ancestors. They spoke of the Moa in exactly the same manner as they did of the Kakapo, the Kiwi, the Weka, and an extinct kind of Rail, in districts where all those birds had disappeared. Allusions to the Moa are found in their poems, sometimes together with allusions to birds still in existence in some parts of the island. From these circumstances, and from former frequent conversations with old natives, I have never entertained the slightest doubt that the Moa was found by the ancestors of the present New Zealand race when they first occupied the islands, and that by degrees the Moa was

destroyed and disappeared, as have several other wingless birds from different parts of New Zealand.”

Mr. Mantell, in a paper read before the Wellington Philosophical Institute, in November, 1872, ^*says—

“The only other important discovery which I shall have to notice, is the old kaianga at the stream now known as Awamoa, a name given by me instead of its original name of Te Awakokomuka, to prevent confusion with other streams of the latter name in the district. This kaianga, which we found in 1852, afforded further unmistakeable proof of the co-existence of man with the Moa. The bones and egg-shells of Dinornis and its kindred, mixed with remains of every available variety of bird, beast, and fish used as food by the aborigines, being all in and around the umus (or native ovens) in which they had been cooked. Although my collection from this place reached England in 1853, it remained unopened until after my arrival there in 1856, when I caused it to be conveyed to the crypts of the British Museum, and there unpacked it in the presence of the great authority on our gigantic birds, Professor Owen. With the exception of two small collections which were selected for me by Professor Owen, and which I gave, one to the Museum of Yale College, U.S., and the other to that of the Jardin des Plantes, the whole of this collection is now in the British Museum. The fragments of egg-shells from these umus varied in size from less than a quarter of an inch of greatest diameter to three or four inches. These, after careful washing, I had sorted, and having, with some patience, found the fragments which had originally been broken from each other, and fitted them together, I succeeded in restoring at least a dozen eggs to an extent sufficient to shew their size and outline. Six or seven of the best of these I gave to the British Museum after their purchase of the collection; one is in the Museum of the College of Surgeons; the rest, including one very beautiful egg, with a polished ivory-like surface, are still in my ownership somewhere in England. Some idea of the labour entailed by this attempt to rehabilitate eggs may be gathered from the fact that several of those restored consisted of between 200 and 300 fragments. I may add that in the markings, size, and so forth, of the eggs (making allowance for the alteration of the former toward the ends of the eggs) I made out about 24 varieties, of which I have specimens.”

The Rev. R. Taylor, in a paper read before the Wellington Philosophical Institute, also in November, 1872, ^† says—

“Early in 1843 I removed from the Bay of Islands to Wanganui, and

my first journey was along the coast of Waimate. As we were resting on the shore near the Waingongoro Stream, I noticed the fragment of a bone which reminded me of the one I found at Waiapu. I took it up and asked my natives what it was? They replied, ‘A Moa's bone; what else; look around and you will see plenty of them.' I jumped up, and, to my amazement, I found the sandy plain covered with a number of little mounds, entirely composed of Moa bones; it appeared to me to be a regular necropolis of the race.

“I found the natives of the West Coast were totally ignorant of the name given to the bird on the other side of the Island, the Tarepo. ^* It was here I first heard the word ‘Moa.’ I was struck with wonder at the sight, but lost no time in selecting some of the most perfect of the bones, and then considered what was to be done with them, and where to bestow them. I had a box in which my supplies for the journey were carried; this I emptied and filled with the bones instead, to the amazement of my followers, who exclaimed ‘What is he doing? What can he possibly want with those old Moa bones?’ One suggested, hei rongoapea (to make into medicine perhaps;) to this the others consented, saying, koia pea (most likely.

“This visit to the Waingongoro was the opening up of one of the most interesting fields of research for the naturalist. My enquiries after the ‘Moa,’ and carrying off some of its bones, caused much talk among the

natives. I was most anxious to obtain a skull of the bird. I was told there was a great one in a swamp some miles inland. I promised a large reward for it, and though they said I should have it, they did not keep their word.

“In reply to my questions about its size, they told me it was quite as large as that of a horse, a sure proof that the bird had never been seen by any of those I spoke to. They, however, told me that these huge birds were formerly very abundant before the Europeans came, but they gradually diminished and finally disappeared. Their nests were made of the refuse of fern root, on which they fed, and they used to conceal themselves in the koromiko (Veronica) thickets, from which they were driven and killed by setting the thickets on fire; hence originated the saying, Te koromiko te rakau i Tunu ai te Moa (the Veronica was the tree which roasted the Moa). The koromiko, when burnt, emits a kind of resin from its bark, which looks like grease, hence the origin of the saying, as all suppose the Moa to have been a very fat bird, which I should think was very questionable. When I next visited Waingongoro, expecting to carry off another load of Moa bones, I found to my surprise that they had disappeared. I afterwards heard that Mr. Mantell had passed that way after me, and had cleared the place of all worth taking.

“The last visit which I paid to Waingongoro was in 1866, in company with Sir George Grey. On our arrival there, he asked me to show him the place where I discovered the great deposit of Moa bones in 1843. I took him at once to the place, and to my astonishment I found the hillocks almost as thickly covered with bones as when I first saw them; the wind had uncovered a lower stratum since my former visit. Several officers stationed at the neighbouring redoubt expressed their surprise when told the bones were those of the Moa. They had seen them times without number, but, supposing them only beef bones, passed them without further notice. Several soldiers volunteered their services, and a great number of these old ovens were opened; all worked in good earnest, and no one more heartily than the Governor. It was quite amusing to see His Excellency grubbing up the old ashes, and carefully selecting what he thought worth carrying away.

“A large cloth was spread on the ground, and the various articles found were piled upon it; these were of a very miscellancous character, consisting not only of bones of the Moa, and fragments of its eggs, but of almost every other bird indigenous to these islands, including those of the Kakapo and Kiwi, with chert flakes, fragments of highly polished axes, and other articles. These ovens seem to have been made in a double line, and to have been used for many years, as each layer of ashes was separated by a thin

stratum of sand from the one immediately below, and the number of them was very great. The natives informed me that when the Moa hunt was to take place, notice was given to the neighbouring places, inviting them all to the battue. The party then spread out to enclose as large a space as possible, and drive the birds from their haunts, then gradually contracting the line as they approached some lake, they at last rushed forward and drove the frightened birds into the water, where they could be easily approached in canoes, and despatched without their being able to make any resistance. These Moa hunts were, doubtless, very destructive, as, from the number of men employed, and the long lines of ovens, the slaughter must have been very great; and, in addition to this, from the large quantity of egg-shells, a clear proof is given that they were eagerly sought for and feasted upon. Thus, the poor birds had little chance of continuing their race. I may also state that the Plain of Waingongoro is called Rangatapu, which may either apply to the hunters (the sacred band) or the ovens (the sacred row), and that the name Moa, like that of the roa, was most probably derived from the bird's cry. The Moa has passed away and its hunters as well, and the proverb is being fulfilled, ‘Kua ngaro a Moa te iwi nei,’ ‘The Maori, like the Moa, has passed away.’” It will be seen in the sequel that Mr. Taylor's interpretation of this proverb is inaccurate.”

I offer no apology for these somewhat lengthy extracts, which have been made for the use of readers elsewhere, who cannot have access to the “Transactions of the New Zealand Institute,” all of which, however, require to be considered in connection with the matter under consideration, and more especially with the communications made to me, as hereafter detailed.

Before referring to these communications, however, I may call your attention to two papers in the recently issued volume of the “Transactions of the Institute,” Vol. 7, one by Dr. Haast, and the other by Mr. Mackay, of the Geological Department of New Zealand, in which the writers arrive at different conclusions, as resulting from discoveries made during the exploration of a cave, near Sumner, on Banks' Peninsula; Dr. Haast, on the one hand, still maintaining his views as to the extinction of the Moa by a race prior to the present one in the occupation of the islands; Mr. Mackay, on the other hand, taking the opposite view.

Dr. Haast, in allusion to the opinions of those who have had the temerity to differ with him, says:—

“But now, as it were at once, the Moa-hunters disappear from the scene, but not without affording an insight into their daily life, by leaving us some of their polished and unpolished stone implements, a few of their

smaller tools, made of bone, a few personal ornaments, as well as of fragments of canoes, whares, and of wooden spears, fire sticks, and other objects too numerous to mention; but by which the fact is established that they had already reached a certain state of civilization, which, in many respects, seems not to have been inferior to that possessed by the Maoris when New Zealand was first visited by Europeans.” ^* At the same time, if we consider the position of the kitchen middens on the dunes in the vicinity of the cave, and those which I discovered on the lines of inner dunes, in the neighbourhood of Christchurch, even the most ardent defender of the groundless assertions that the Moa only became extinct some 80 or 100 years ago must admit that, at least in this portion of the island, these gigantic birds were exterminated at a period when the physical features in this part of the Canterbury Plains near the sea were different from what they are now; that large lagoon-like lakes have since been filled up, and sand-dunes of considerable width have been added to those existing. In one word, those changes during quarternary times have been of such magnitude that it is impossible to estimate, even approximately, the length of time necessary for the achievement of such important alterations, worked out by the sea and the rivers entering it.

“And, as in other portions of this island, the deposits in which the kitchen middens of the Moa-hunters occur are of similar antiquity, I have no doubt that my views expressed on this subject, some years ago, will gain general acceptance in due time, although I know that erroneous notions to the contrary, when they have once become popular prejudices, are difficult to eradicate; especially when they are supported by one or two scientific men in New Zealand, notwithstanding that their assertions never stood the test of critical examination, and have been refuted over and over again.”

I have thus brought the controversy up to the latest moment, and will now proceed to state the information given to me, and the circumstances under which I obtained it.

in the course of a professional visit to Napier in the latter part of last May, I was introduced to Mr. John White, by the Hon. Mr. Russell, for whom he was then acting as interpreter in connection with some native transactions. At the time of the introduction I was not aware that Mr. White was the gentleman who had, under the auspices of the New Zealand Government, delivered the extremely interesting and valuable “Lectures on

‘Maire’ or Manuka wood six or eight feet long, and the sharp end of which was cut so that it might break and leave about six or eight inches of the spear in the bird. ^* With these the men would hide behind the scrnb on the side of the track, and when the birds were escaping from the fear of the noise of those who had driven them from the lakes, those spears were thrown at them, thus sticking in the bird; the scrub on the sides of the track would catch the spears, and break the jagged end off, leaving it in the bird. As it had to pass many men, the broken spear points thus put into the bird caused it to yield in power when it had gained the open fern country, where it was attacked in its feeble condition by the most daring of the tribe. When taken, it was cut up with the stone, Tuhua obsidian (flint). I must digress a little. There are four sorts of Tuhua—Tuhua, which is black; Waiapu, which is of a light colour; Panetao, which is green; and Kahurangi, which is red. The first only is used in cutting up the bird Moa, the second is used by the people to cut themselves when they cry for the dead, the third is used when the dead are chiefs, the fourth is used when the dead are head chiefs or priests; also the third is used when the dead are children, and the same is used to cut the human hair. Again, the Tuhua is not used to cut up the bodies of the killed, but a Manipi Tuatini, or to the South it is called Manipi Huata, is used; this is not used to cut up the Moa; the hunters carry with them a block of Tuhua, and as it is chipped off and used, it is not used again for any other bird or anything else, but left at the spot where used. The Moa did not go in large flocks, but usually a male and female and their young. Hence the proverb. When a battle is as it were a number of single combats, it is called, ‘He Whawhai Tautau a Moa,’ ‘a fight two and two like the Moa.’ Again, the nest of the Moa was made by the bird collecting a heap of Toi-toi and other grass in a large heap and in the centre on the top lay its eggs. Hence, when the Kumera was cultivated and the weeds collected by the sacred men, who took the weeds and laid them all in a heap at the edge of the plantation, this was called a ‘Moa,’ as it resembled the nest of that bird. I cannot trust my memory to give the Karakias, the purport of the one which was said on the evening of the day before the hunt, is in substance this:—“The mists of the hills most celebrated in the locality of the hunt are invoked to make the birds' fat flow as the globules of dew that run down the leaves of the trees at dawn on a summer's day, and the God of Silence is cautioned not to allow fear or dread to come near the Moa.” The

labour was rewarded by the discovery of over 200 Moa bones; and on my return from Australia, in the early part of this month (November, 1875), I showed the result of my explorations to Mr. F. T. Cheeseman, F.L.S. By offering to act as guide among the muddy mangrove flats, which render travelling unpleasant in these parts, I induced him to visit the locality.

We spent a very pleasant time in observing and striving to read aright the story full of charming interest which these relics, implements, and tools before you are ever willing to teach. Everything in this world has a history, something to tell, or something to teach about what it was, or how it came where it is.

I should like to be able to add, even in a small degree, to the slender knowledge we possess of the mode of life and thought of those races whose bones, tools, and toys are exhibited.

Truly we may run back, in fancy, into the past, and think of these early men as hunting or fighting, their women loving, and their merry children gathering roots, fruits, and berries, or joining cheerfully in the exciting and dangerous chase of the gigantic Moa.

I will content myself, however, with narrating and describing accurately the simple facts as observed, leaving it to savants to propound theories in connection herewith.

From Whangarei Heads, after a few miles walk over the fern-clad hills, you reach the extensive Mangrove swamps of Pataua and Taiharuru Rivers; crossing the Pataua, about a mile from the sea, follow the north-west bank of the river to the mouth, which is bounded on the east by a rocky but beautifully wooded hill, 200 feet high, from which the river takes its name. ^*

Standing on sand-hills to the south-west, you see the river winding down its bed, fully half-a-mile in width from hill to hill. On either side are Mangrove flats and Pipi banks, leaving a silver thread of water, fifty yards broad, at low tide. Some beautiful Pohutukawa trees line the north bank of the river, and amongst them are some grand old specimens—one, whose trunk measures twenty-one feet in circumference, has seen some hundreds of summers, as the erosion of the shore from the spot where the tree first commenced to grow would witness, and Pipi shells form a perpendicular little cliff there fifteen feet high.

To the north-west, along the sea coast for thirteen miles and a quarter, a fine sandy beach reaches as far as a creek called the Kowhaitahi (Kowhai),

tree; tahi, one; but the one Kowhai tree from which the creek takes its name has long disappeared).

Sand dunes, about thirty feet in height, form a ridge above the beach, and fall undulatingly back three hundred to four hundred yards into-extensive raupo and flax swamps. On these sand dunes the greatest number of relics were found, evidently accumulations of the hand of man; heaps of pipi shells, cockle, turbo, and mussels, oven-stones, charcoal, and ashes in the cooking places of the former inhabitants; close by, on the surface, are the bones of seals, fishes, human bones, and the bones of birds; amongst them these interesting remains of the Moa, which I collected with the greatest care, comprising:—

• 60 Toe bones and claws

• 27 Metatarsi (ankle)

• 14 Tibiæ (shin)

• 27 Femora (thigh)

• 70 Vertebræ

• 5 Pelves,

A number of ribs, etc.

Portion of the head of a smaller species, and the lower beak of another species.

The Pelves are in a poor state of preservation, except one belonging to the smaller species of Moa, which is not much broken. We could have added great numbers of fragments of Tibiæ and Femora to our collection, but considered them worthless; whether these pieces were broken by tramping of horses and cattle accidentally, or cracked open for the marrow (if any) contained, is an interesting problem. If the natives were in the habit of breaking the bones, why did they not break all of them?

Of the more perfect specimens I append a table of measurements, which will, I trust, lead to the identification of some species.

This sandy ridge was a fine feeding place of old. The ovens are particularly numerous, especially at eight or ten spots where the sand has been well blown in shore; at these places the surface is composed of a bed of hardened fine brown sand. On this, evidently older surface, heaps of sharp oven stones, charcoal, etc., close by the bones of Moas, mark the kitchen middens; near at hand, also, are little heaps of worn quartz pebbles. These are very singular, and excite curiosity at once, presenting, as they do, a striking contrast to the waterworn stones and pebbles strewn all about, which latter are of a blue colour.

These little quartz pebbles I take to be “crop-stones,” swallowed by the Moa to aid digestion, although they are not as smooth as what I have seen exhibited in our own Museum for “Moa Stones;” they were probably in

full use at the time of the bird's death, and not ready for ejection; it has been observed, for instance, that the Ostrich and Emu eject stones similar to those in the Museum from time to time in order to swallow others less rounded.

At every place where we found Moa bones, there also we found “crop-stones,” which, on some spots, guided us to the discovery of Moa bones.

Obsidian chips or flakes were numerous, and occurred mostly on the surface of the old bed of hard fine brown sand. I carefully collected all I could find; at one place I found the “core” of obsidian, from which the flakes were chipped; the splinters and fragments around marking the site of the manufactory of their knives. At two other spots the fragments and splinters of obsidian would indicate similar workshops, but I failed to find the “cores.” Some of these knives are blunted, and show signs of use, but when first chipped off would present a keen cutting edge.

Dana informs us that in Mexico this volcanic glass was formerly used both for mirrors, knives, and razors. Plate III., figures No. 7, to 15, represent some of the most characteristic shapes found.

Egg-shell of the Moa occurred at three spots along this ridge, but the closest scrutiny only revealed about five ounces of small pieces belonging to various eggs. The fragments, however, are too small to attempt the reformation of a complete shell with any prospect of success; still the largest piece, about three inches long, is of sufficient size to measure the curve and allow the calculation of the diameter of an egg, which would give a diameter of 8.625 inches.

At the southern end of Pataua Beach, where the Pataua Hill breaks the force of the south-east gales, vegetation is still growing on the sand dunes close to the sea; but further north the drifting sand has cut the vegetation off and rendered the land barren 400 yards wide to the edge of raupo and flax swamps; the only plant growing amongst the sand is the Pingao (Desmochanus).

When I first visited this spot, in 1867, these sand dunes were covered on the swamp side with Manuka, Fern, Wi-wi, littoral plants, and several clumps of small trees, growing close to the sea beach. The dead limbs of those small trees are still to be seen heaped up with sand; the littoral plants have gone, the sandy bed in which they grew has been blown in shore, covering up the Fern, Manuka, and Wi-wi.

These sand dunes, between the swamp and sea, owe their origin primarily to blown sand, so that I am of opinion that the Pingao (Desmochanus) periodically heaps up the sand at the beach for a sufficient length of time to permit the plants at the back to grow; then a time arrives when the sand commences to drift in shore, to add another layer to the sand dunes near

the swamp; that this process was going on at the time when Moas and Moa-hunters lived here, and still continues, is evident to me, and I hope, before I have done, to prove it to you.

The Maori track, in 1867, was a little distance back from the beach, and amongst the plants which were then alive, but are now covered up with sand; owing to the tediousness of walking in loose sand, travellers—now following the ridge close to the beach on the pipi shells and kitchen middens—could not possibly escape observing the Moa bones, and as the Revs. W. Colenso and Williams, with others, must often have passed this way, without reporting the existence of these bones, I am forced to conclude that they were buried under sand and vegetation; so that to these simple natural causes must any merit of discovery be accorded.

The skulls of two dogs and a cat were found at the Kowhaitahi end of the ridge; but as they were amongst the driftwood and loose sand, they are probably recent.

I examined carefully every bone we saw for the marks, scratching or gnawing of dog's teeth, but failed to discover any; it may be that the natives had no domesticated dog at this time, if the contrary, dogs could not have been numerous, or the fragile bones of the small Moa Pelvis would surely have been gnawed and broken.

The bones of smaller birds, such as Kiwi, Gulls, &c., were also to be seen; we collected some in the hopes of getting them identified.

The two swamps at the back of the sand dunes were probably one some time ago; but are now divided by a small causeway of sand, which has advanced from the sea and met a clay spur from the hills, the larger swamp draining itself into the Kowhaitahi Creek, and the smaller one into the Pataua; both are quite impassible for cattle. The smaller one will be drained this summer, and careful search made for buried Moa remains.

Stone Hatchets or Adzes.—In the locality I am now speaking of I found seven, of various sizes and shapes (exhibited), weighing from 4 oz. to 3 lb.; some of them are well made and polished, and have seen good service, others again are sharp, perhaps first re-ground; but one or two appear to have been made by a clumsy workman, or tyro at the art, and the too much chipped stone spoilt and thrown away. Plate III., figures No. 1 to 4.

Human Skeletons.—I found the remains of two bodies only on the Pataua Beach. One of them is that of a large man, the almost perfect skeleton of whom I have lodged in the Museum; the teeth are complete, but much ground down. This individual had been buried about three feet below the recent surface, and three or four feet of sand intervened between him and the old bed of hardened brown sand to which I have alluded, with shells and stones on it, and is probably recent.

The other human remains were of a far more interesting character, and consisted of the larger bones of a man and part of a very thick skull, laid on and close by the stones of an oven, and, singularly enough, the bones were all much charred by fire. I exhibit the trochanter of a thigh bone, and also a piece of his enormously thick skull, shewing the effects of fire plainly. This charred skeleton was on the lowest bed of hard brown sand and was clearly burnt by design. I can hardly believe them to be the remains of an over-cooked cannibal feast; but am more inclined to look upon it as evidence that these Moa-hunters burnt their dead, as did, for example, the lowest races of men in Australia; a practice, too, which there is reason to believe was almost universal among the earliest races of men in past times.

Between Kowhaitahi Creek and Hora Hora River are several Tapu grounds of the Maoris, from one of which we brought the skull and thigh bone of a large man; further on the sandy beach is backed by soft clay hills, with perpendicular face seaward, and which, within half-a-mile of the Hora Hora, are composed of a yellow sandy clay, forty feet perpendicular to the sea, sloping back on the land side to small swamps, and covered with vegetation. In places the wind—having found a little break in the cliff—has, here and there, hollowed out three sides of a pit, and blown back large quantities of sand, leaving the rounded blue pebbles and stones in the bottom, and in some places the sand, blown seaward by the land breeze, lodges at the foot of the cliff; nearer still to the Hora Hora the drifting sand has gained complete mastery, having destroyed all the vegetation on the sand-hills. It has the appearance of shifting alternately to the seaward or the land side of the ridge, according to the prevalence of land or sea breezes. On the top of this sand hill, scattered all over the surface, are blue water-worn pebbles and a few heaps of shells and sharp oven stones.

I was once, after a very heavy gale of wind, at this spot, which is not tapu, and examined the remains of a cannibal feast, viz.—four large cooking stoves, and as many human skeletons close by them. The bones were in heaps; the skulls had rolled a little distance off; one of the skulls was pierced with some round instrument, leaving a hole, about an inch in diameter, on the crown of the forehead, inclined to the left hand side. This spectacle, so suggestive of rough and troublous times, is now hidden from view.

In one of the saddles of this ridge, which is composed of a yellow-coloured sand, and still thirty feet high—the hardened brown sand is wanting here; but the adjoining cliffs are of a yellow sandy clay—I found the portions of at least three Moas, one large stone axe, but no obsidian flakes.

The Moa bones got here consist of—

• 4 Metatarsi

• 4 Femora

• 12 Vertebræ

• 5 Ribs.

One of these birds was of large size, the tibia being nearly two feet long, and one of the most perfect bones obtained; but the bones of this and another smaller specimen are soft, yellow, and light, much lighter than any other bones we have found; they have, I think, lost all their gelatine, for, on touching a dry fracture of a bone with the tongue, the tongue will adhere to the lime; when damp, those yellow-coloured bones would crumble in your fingers; although the utmost care was used in digging them out, some of them were so fragile that they would not bear their own weight in the air when freed from sand. The rib bones were, apparently, not much disturbed, but fell to pieces on being lifted. Underneath these bones, and amongst the sand, were the little white quartz pebbles, similar to those at Patua. The most determined doubter must now admit that these curious stones are really “Moa stones.”

Adjoining this sand ridge is a clay flax-covered ridge, on the northern side of which, down to the south bank of the Hora Hora River, the Maoris recently had a nice cultivation, an isthmus washed by the sea on one side, and the river on the other joins the Hora Hora pa to the cultivation; on the sea-washed bank of this isthmus the skeleton of a man is to be seen. The Pa, which forms the south head of the river, is about 150 feet high, is very picturesque, and has a very fine double ditch or fosse round the only accessible side, and resembles in some respects Pataua Head.

The coast is rocky from this point to within a mile of Ngungururu River, there the shore is a low sandy flat, with a fine beach, but I observed no Moa remains.

We will now retrace our steps, cross the Pataua River on to Pataua Hill, for the purpose of examining the isthmus joining that hill to Taiharuru Island. This isthmus is a sandy ridge about 100 yards long, with the sea-beach on one side, mangrove mud flats on the other (vide Plate II., Secs. 3, 4, and 5). For the length of 50 yards this ridge has been completely denuded of the vegetation with which it was once covered, presents an oblique face to the sea, and the sand is being blown off the top and in shore, exposing heaps of pipi shells and cooking stones as the evidence of former eating places. The other end of this ridge is covered with a thick mat of plants which are thriving in all similar places in this locality, viz., the Muhlenbeckia; Coprosma acerosa, or sloeberry; the prickly little Leucopogon frazeri; and Desmoschœnus (Pingao). The seaward face of this part of the

ridge is over five feet higher than the bare sandy portion, and is almost perpendicular (Plate II. Secs. 3 and 5).

The gradations between the lower bare sandy ridge with its oblique face to the sea, and the higher verdure-clad ridge with its steep face to the sea is well observable, and, as our surmises received confirmation here, I describe the process as minutely as possible, for I wish you clearly to understand that these remains have been covered with sand and overgrown with thick littoral plants; and, since the oldest inhabitants knew nothing of these burying-places or camping-grounds, it is clear that these relics could not be observed till the surface had been removed and the old bed exposed to view.

A small channel is formed in the outer face of the ridge, either by the tramping of cattle or the encroachment of the sea, or both, down which the sand will run, and through which the wind rushes like as through a funnel, and soon the space widens; the sand is removed from the roots of the plants, the blowing sand cutting the leaves off, and the ridge is thus lowered in time to the bed of the old camping-ground. One of those small channels is already of considerable width, leaving on the sandy end a mound with a tuft of dying vegetation, its stringy roots hanging down all round. On the other end of this channel the face was steep, and a human skeleton was falling out of the bank; the skull had fallen out, but the other parts appeared in a horizontal position, with two feet of loose sand between the bones and pipi shells beneath (Plate II., Sec. 5). We brought this skull to Auckland and marked it. Portions of two other human skeletons were exposed on the bare sandy end of the ridge. We could not discover any traces of the Moa in this spot.

About two miles south-east, across the Taiharuru River, is a snug little cove, with a horse-shoe beach one-third of a mile in length, called by the Nova Scotians, Baleladech Bay (I failed to learn the native name); it is at the north end of the farm of Wm. M'Leod, and close to his house, at the head of this bay, is a sandy ridge about 20 to 30 feet high, 100 yards long. Each end is bounded by soft clay rocks, with the sea on one side and a swamp of the Taiharuru River on the other.

The blown sand here covers about four acres, and the present surface is literally strewn with human remains. I distinguished the heaps of bones belonging to 24 human skeletons, and I was shewn a spot where ten additional had been covered up again with sand. Kitchen middens are heaps of shell-fish and tools. I obtained here some of the finest obsidian chips and one ill-formed adze. After very careful search I found embedded, in brown hardish sand, about three yards apart, portions of the skeletons of two Moas, a large species and a smaller one, as will be seen from the ten vertebræ and fragments of leg, thirteen toe bones, and portions

of two pelves. These bones are much decomposed, and were lying fully six feet below the present top of the highest mound of cooking stones, pebbles, and shells. W. M'Leod informed me that seven years ago this ridge was covered with a beautiful carpet ofMuhlenbeckia and coprosma; no sand was visible at all, and he was not less surprised than the Maoris to see these skeletons unearthed as the vegetation died and the sand was drifted in-shore.

I have five of these human skulls here marked; amongst them is one of a child (probably a girl of thirteen or fourteen years); it is the only skull I observed exhibiting marks of violence, viz., an abrasion of the skull at the back of the head.

In one of the human skeletons, the small and large bones of the legs were doubled up, evidently undisturbed since burial; the bones of the upper part of the body were scattered around, but the distal (ankle) ends of the tibiæ (shin), and the proximal (upper) ends of the femora (thigh) were embedded in sand, shewing that this individual was buried in a cramped posture.

The Maoris knew not of the existence of this burying-place till exposed to view gradually during the past seven years, by the disappearance of the vegetation and removal of the sand.

At Whale Cove, a little rocky inlet, with a small beach at its head, the sand commenced to drift only three or four years ago, and has now covered about four acres, being curiously blown up hill to the left, owing to the height of the cliff. Of Moa bones, an imperfect metatarsus was all I found here; but in the coprosma-covered bank, a human skeleton was falling out of the sand; some bones remained in the bank as evidence where it had lain. I also found the wing bone of a bird (probably albatros) broken in the middle, one end ground smoothly off, with four little holes very neatly bored, two in each side. It had been used perhaps as a musical instrument, but more probably hung as an ornament (see Plate III., Figs. 16, 17, 18).

At Stockyard Bay, a mile or two further south, on Captain Eyre's land, is a semicircular cove, with a beach for a quarter mile. The sandy ridge here, as at M'Leod's Bay, is a saddle between the sea and a swamp of the Taiharuru River; vegetation has not been destroyed by wind and sand, except in a place where an old stockyard once stood; here, on an old cooking-place, I found one vertebræ bone and some small valueless fragments of a small species of Moa.

Being now convinced of the wider range of the Moa in those parts than I at first thought probable, I examined, in company with Mr. Cheeseman. the extensive sand-hills between Bream Head and Manaia.

Those sand-hills are several miles long, varying from a quarter to half a mile wide, and are in some places 70 to 80 feet high, with sea-beach on one side and large swamps and small lakes on the other. On the northern extremity of the ridges, Pingao (Desmoschœnus) and Spinifex grass is growing amongst the hills, retaining the loose sand in little heaps, so that no shells or other remains are visible; on the southern or Bream Head extremity, the ridges are bare, and the sand shifts freely, leaving in the saddles between the summits of sand-hills, hardened beds of yellow-coloured sandy soil strewn in places with sharp stones and worn pebbles.

The sides of these sand-hills presented some beautiful examples of false or cross stratification and ripple in the blown sand. On the oblique face which these hills presented seaward, were here and there large mounds of pipi shells and kitchen middens. Walking down to examine the first of these mounds, we observed a collection of quartz pebbles, “Moa stones.” We pondered over them with deep interest, feeling sure that, although all osseous remains may have disappeared from these older sand-hills, the Moa once existed here. Our conjectures were well founded and confirmed by the discovery of a much worn metatarus, portions of a femur, and a vertebræ. At another similar mound a tibia was found, and at a third mound some fragments of tibia and femora were to be seen; also the portions of tibia of a small species of Moa, with proximal end tolerably perfect.

Of obsidian flakes and adzes, we found none.

We observed the remains of several human skeletons, but the bones were much broken and worn. Here also we found two pieces of bone evidently carefully bored and shaped by the hand of man (Plate III., Figs. No. 5, 6), and probably applied to some practical or ornamental purpose.

I have been more careful to collect facts than to explain what they mean, since in every study the mastery of facts and the knowledge of their relation to one another is of first importance. Conclusions can always wait, always take care of themselves; but now that I have described what I have seen, I may be allowed to point briefly to some of the more obvious ideas suggested.

When I first found a Moa bone at Pataua, I thought it must have been carried there, or that marauding tribes from the Bay of Plenty or Poverty Bay had brought them in their canoes as a supply of food, a small commissariat, in fact, and the human skeletons were the slain in the battle while attempting to or after having effected a landing on an enemy's shore. It may be so, but I think it far more probable that those huge wingless birds lived, were hunted, killed, and eaten there.

The physical character of the localities, Pataua and Manaia, point unmistakably to this latter conclusion. You will readily conceive how the

wary Moa-hunter would skilfully drive the probably sluggish, stupid bird down the mud flats and bed of the Pataua on to the narrow sand dunes between the impassable swamp and the sea as into the most cleverly contrived trap. Here the real struggle would take place on which depended his only supply of animal food.

The dry, silicious sandy nature of these dunes fits them peculiarly for the preservation of osseous remains, and these bones seem to be of very great antiquity, compared with similar ones from Canterbury.

The variety of relics of this kind north of Auckland is perhaps in part due to the early extinction of the bird by the natives of the district.

It is interesting, also, to find this bird in these wooded parts of the country, for although there are a few acres of fern land to the east of Parua Bay, yet the Moa could not have lived here without entering the timbered country and feeding on roots which he would dig for with his powerful foot, or berries which would be within reach of his tall beak. However, the extensive flats and pipi banks, dry at low water, would furnish an abundant supply of food for the Moa, if he had a relish for molluscs or small fish, which is very probable, for Darwin (“Voyage of Beagle,” 2nd ed., p. 89) reports that “South American Ostriches, although they live on vegetable matter, such as roots and grass, are repeatedly seen at Bahia Blanca, lat. 39° S., on the Coast of Buenos Ayres, coming down at low water to the extensive mud banks, which are then dry, for the sake of eating—as the Gauchos say, of feeding on small fish; they readily take to the water, and have been seen at the Bay of San Blas, and at Port Valdez, in Patagonia, swimming from island to island.” So that the Moa might readily cross these rivers, or even Whangarei Harbour, to feed on the large flats which are there dry at low tide.

I think that further and accurate observation will prove the habitat the Moa to have been all over this North Western Peninsula. The sea beaches, such as I have described, are numerous all round the coast; those at Te Arai are very likely places, and the Limestone Caves at Waiapu and Whangarei are probably capable of telling some deeply interesting facts relative hereto. We only want more general interest awakened to bring these facts to our knowledge for the benefit of science.

These huge, wingless birds of the past have disappeared, and given place to other and perhaps more beautiful forms of life; it is no use guessing how long ago these creatures flourished on the earth; we certainly know that they lived in New Zealand down to very recent times, and we rightly judge that their disappearance in New Zealand was hastened and completed by the hand of hunters, who, to my mind, were, without doubt, the ancestors of the Maori.

bones of fishes and birds, as well as human remains, but not a trace of a Moa bone. On a sand-bank not 20 yards from the ovens, we found the greater part of a human skeleton, which had, I think, been buried, and probably belonged to a woman, one of some travelling or fishing party. The under jaw accompanies this paper. These ovens were close to the stream first-mentioned, and about five miles from the end of Cape Campbell. Much nearer to it, only about a quarter of a mile from the lighthouse, I found another tarsus much smaller than the first. It was found partly embedded in a steep clay hill at the spot marked 2 on the map, but no other bones could be found near it. All the remains mentioned above were found to the east and south of Cape Campbell; to the west of it lies Clifford Bay, extending from the Cape to the White Bluff, which divides it from Cloudy Bay. All along the shores of Clifford Bay, as far as the western extremity of the sand-bar, which separates it from Lake Grass-mere, are to be found old ovens and the signs of Maori occupation. Two places have also been pointed out to me where great battles are said to have been fought between the natives. All the stone implements which accompany this paper were picked up at various times at the places marked on the map by crosses. At the place marked 3, is a piece of flat land, lying between the hills and the bay, ending in a reef of large rocks covered with mussels, and here, as might be expected, are the remains of a considerable Maori settlement. The natives inhabiting this settlement were certainly not Moa-hunters, for, on opening a great number of the old ovens, ash heaps, etc., we found chiefly shells, with fish, bird, and seal bones, but no Moa bones; and I am of opinion that these ovens, etc., are of too recent a date for any to be - found in them. Maoris were, I believe, living about the mussel rocks the last 50 years. Proceeding along Clifford Bay in a southwest direction, we come to its deepest indentation, where the shore is now formed by a sand-bar, on one side of which is the sea, and on the other the lake, Parera-te-hau, or Grassmere, a shallow brackish lagoon, occupying about 4000 acres, and the resort of swans, Paradise ducks, stilt plovers, and other aquatic birds; and here again we come upon the remains of the Moa, which must have frequented the lake in numbers, bones having been found all round it, but chiefly at the places marked 4, 5, and 6 on the map. There are also a number of old ovens on the sand-bar, full of fish, bird, and seal bones. Lake Grassmere must at one time have formed part of Clifford Bay, for at its western side I came upon the remains of an ancient sea beach, samples of which I send herewith. More recently, its area seems to have been occupied by a forest, the trees growing below the present level of the sea. In September, 1874, after a very wet winter, the lake broke through the sand-bar to the sea, leaving a large portion of its

bottom at the end of the cave. The estimated length of the cave is forty feet.

The floor consisted of a fine powdered rock, which was encrusted to a depth of two inches with rectangular crystals of a clear salt ^* resembling saltpetre. Some of this, or a similar substance, was found in pieces two inches long by one deep. The depth of the sand was nine inches.

Below this was a coarser formation of small flakes of schist, which extended to a depth of two feet six inches. The next stratum was composed of still coarser material, with broken blacks of schist through it. The depth of this was not tried.

The only trace of water was a slight drip on the left side near the entrance. In places the roof was encrusted with a thin covering of a white substance ^† which, probably, damp had caused to exude from the rock. ^‡

No traces of animal life were found lower than about six inches from the surface, except at the entrance end, where the material appeared to consist of animal and vegetable matter, which had drifted down from the other parts of the floor, which had a steep incline from the entrance inwards.

Thirty feet from the entrance, in the two-inch crust, a small quantity of double-shafted feathers, of a greyish-brown colour, and three inches long, were obtained. They were scattered separately through the sand. The height of the cave at this place was about three and a-half feet, and the width six feet.

Further in was a small collection of short sticks, fern, and broom, which might be the remains of a nest. Here the feathers were scarcer, and a metatarsus was found in good preservation which measured 8 inches in length, 6 ⅞ girth at proximal end, 3 ⅞ at thinnest part, and 8 ¾ girth at distal end; ^§ also portions of egg-shell of a green colour, which appeared to be parts of a large egg, probably that of a large duck.

In both of these places feathers of different birds were found, the greater number belonging to the Paroquet (Platycercus). These appeared to be generally nearer to the surface than those first mentioned.

Close to the end of the cave were found a fibula, measuring 11 1/3 in length, and 4 7/3 girth at the proximal end, and several vertebræ, and a portion of an upper mandible. All of these belonged most likely to the same bird.

from the tertiary rocks that form the sea cliffs south of the Shag River to the mouth of that river; these hills, being about sixty feet in height near their southern end, and decreasing in altitude towards the river. Inland of the sand-hills there is a low flat, about two feet above high water mark, and this flat is bounded on the east by a tidal backwater, communicating with the river, which flows along the northern end of the sand-hills into the sea.

The flat is covered with a luxuriant growth of grass; but, on the sandhills, a few scattered tussocks—chiefly in the hollows—are the only vegetation. The northern end of the sand-hills have been considerably worn away by the river, and now form low cliffs from five to eight feet high, in which are exposed some of the old Maori middens, consisting chiefly of shells and fish-bones, but also containing bones of dog, seal, moa, and other birds.

On the very highest point of the hills we also found considerable deposits of shells, Moa bones, and Maori trinkets, and we therefore decided to have a deep trench cut in an east and west direction, right across the hills at this point, in order to ascertain to what depth traces of human occupation extended, and when that was completed, we determined to have pits sunk on the lower parts of the hills, and on the flat, to ascertain the nature of the remains there also. Accordingly, Mr. Booth, with the assistance of another man, commenced to work on the 25th January, and on the 11th February, the trench and pits having been completed, I again visited the ground, in company with Mr. Rich, to examine the ground and decide what should be done next.

The explorations thus made exposed the whole structure of the sandhills and the flat, and proved convincingly that the Maori middens were only surface deposits, seldom more than four feet deep, scattered irregularly over the hills and flat. We, consequently, gave orders to stop the excavation, and I requested Mr. Booth to continue the surface explorations, and to collect for the Museum for as long a period as he could stay. This he agreed to do, and he remained camped on the ground until the 24th April, when he left, sending to the Museum ten boxes full of the collections that he had made.

Not having any room for unpacking these boxes, I have only opened the three most important ones, examined their contents, and packed them up again; but Mr. Booth supplied me with catalogues of the contents of each box. I am not, therefore, in a position to describe the whole of the collections made at these middens; but, from my own observations, from the notes supplied to me by Mr. Booth, and from my examination of the three most important boxes, I am, I think, in possession of sufficient infor-

mation regarding the Maori, or “Moa-hunter,” feasts to make it unnecessary for me to wait until the whole collection has been examined before laying the results before you.

The deposits of shells and bones generally extended to only four or five feet from the surface; but, in one place, Mr. Booth found bones of dog, seal, and moa, mixed with shells, at a depth of twelve feet. This deposit was covered by four feet of clean sand. On the summit of the highest hill we obtained bone fish-hooks, flakes of chert and obsidian, ground stone implements, fishing-net sinkers, and ornaments manufactured out of Dentalium giganteum—a fossil abundant at the Waitaki. With these were moa bones of several species, bones of fish, and immense numbers of the following shells, viz., Haliotis iris, Amphibola avellana, Chione stutchburyi (partly coloured), and Dentalium dunkeri (still retaining its colour). All the ornaments manufactured from Dentalium, the obsidian flakes, and the ground implements were got close together round one oven, at about two feet from the surface. Above them was a heterogenous mixture of bones (including many belonging to the Moa), and shells; and a similar mixture extended for another two feet below them.

In the deepest deposit found (twelve feet), besides bones of seal, dog, moa, penguin, and fish, there were shells of Haliotis iris and large quantities of Chione stutchburyi, still partly retaining their colour. These shells of C. stutchburyi, however, differed from those of the same species found in all other parts of the midden, by their being much larger. This may, perhaps, be accounted for by the Maoris at that time having collected their pipis on a different bank from the one they afterwards used; for we know that C. stutchburyi has survived from the Miocene period without decreasing in size.

It is quite unnecessary for me to give lists of all the remains at each of the excavations made by Mr. Booth, for they were all nearly alike. Moa bones were never found unassociated with beds of shells, and although shell beds did occur without moa bones, these just as often underlaid beds with moa bones as overlaid them.

The following is a list of the animals, remains of which were found in the midden, so far as I have examined the collections:—Seal, dog, rat,—Dinornis casuarinus, D. crassus, D. elephantopus, and D. gravis. Albatross, penguin, and many other birds not determined. Fish-bones were very abundant, the commonest species being Thyrsites atun. The following shells were the only ones found:—Calyptrœa maculata, Imperator cookii, Turbo smaragdus, Haliotis iris, Amphibola avellana, Mactra discors, Mesodesma novœzealandiœ, Chione stutchburyi (the most abundant of all), and Mytilus dunkeri. No bones of Harpagornis nor of Cnemiornis were found.

Only three or four bones of young moas were found. Moa egg-shell was not uncommon; but Mr. Booth thinks that the whole quantity obtained would probably not make more than three or four eggs. Two moa bones were found, which, according to Mr. Booth, had been gnawed by dogs. A piece of skin of some animal was found at a depth of about two feet, in the sand. There was no shell bed over it.

In some places near the south end of the hills, moa bones were more abundant deeper down than near the surface; but this was not observed in other places. The moa bones were not in continuous layers like the shells, but in patches. Mr. Booth also noticed that the heads of the same species were always in one patch. Gizzard stones in small heaps were abundant It is also worthy of notice that no moa bones are found in any other locality in the neighbourhood, and none were found on the Bushy Park estate when it was first ploughed up.

It is very difficult to give an opinion as to the age of these deposits. Twelve feet of blown sand would not necessarily take long to accumulate, neither would four feet of shell deposit round the ovens. Many of the shells still retain a considerable portion of their colouring matter; but the greater number of them are white and friable. With the exception of the pelves, all of which were rotten, most of the moa bones were in a better state of preservation than the shells; but Mr. Booth remarks that “the state of preservation in which the bones were found did not depend on their depth, nor the length of time they had been buried; but altogether on the pureness of the sand in which they happened to lay. Whenever the sand was discoloured with ashes, or any other matter, the bones were invariably rotten;”

A stump of totara, probably part of an old eel-pa, was found fixed upright in the river bed below high-water mark, and, on being extracted, it showed that it had been dressed with stone adzes. This stump appears to have been about six feet long. At high-water mark it had rotted through, and the upper portion, two feet in length, was found covered by about a foot of sand. The lower portion, four feet in length, two feet of which were in the ground, is, however, perfectly sound. Mr. Booth also remarked that the lowest shell beds always rested on pure sand, without the slightest discolouration, and he, therefore, thinks that the first occupation of the spit was before any grass was growing on it.

Dr. Haast has stated ^* that the land has sunk about three feet since the date of the first ovens; but a careful examination of the ground failed to corroborate his observations. No ovens were found as high as low-water mark, although scattered stones that had been used for cooking were found

on the river side of the spit below high-water mark, but none below low water mark. These stones had no doubt been washed out of the sand by the undercutting of the river.

On the whole, I am inclined to think that the totara stump proves that the occupation of this midden was previous to the introduction of iron tools by Europeans, and the state of preservation of the shells and bones points to the same conclusion, but I know of nothing that proves that the moa remains are more than a century old, although it is quite possible that they may date back for several centuries. There is certainly not the slightest evidence to show that this spit was occupied at two distinct periods, with a long interval between, during which interval the moa became extinct, as stated by Dr. von Haast. In my opinion, the very last Maoris who camped there fed occasionally on the moa.

Having now given all the facts that I know relating to the occurrence of bones and shells in these middens, it only remains to mention those facts entirely collected by Mr. Booth, that throw some light on the habits of the Moa-hunters and the nature of their feasts.

Of the leg-bones of the moa, nearly all the tibia were broken for the purpose of extracting the marrow; in three months' work Mr. Booth only found three whole ones. Of the femora found, about one-fourth or one-fifth were unbroken. The metatarsi were generally broken. All the pelves but one were broken. The spinal column appears to have been generally cut through at the junction of the neck with the body, and again at eight or twelve inches below the head. Very few heads were found that had been broken for the extraction of the brain. The sternal ribs were generally still lying in their places with the sterna showing. Mr. Booth remarks that there had been but little flesh upon them.

In one place, ten feet square, fifteen pelves were found, with a few vertebræ attached to them; but usually the bones were scattered. All these fifteen pelves were much broken.

In reviewing these facts, Mr. Booth concludes that food was not so abundant with the Maoris, as supposed by Dr. Haast, as almost all the bones except the skulls were broken. He also thinks that the moa feasts were only occasional, a small flock of six or seven individuals of the same species being captured at a time. He also remarks that the charred state of some of the necks proves that they were occasionally roasted, while others may have been steamed. Mr. Booth also thinks that the Maoris used the bones for fuel, as in several places he found heaps of burnt bones from six to twelve inches in depth, and no wood, only a few small pieces of charcoal and burnt grass and sea-weed. He also remarked that the sterna

“From Hawaiki. The wind has blown us away from our shore. Where do you belong to?” “To Tahiti-nuiarua” (perhaps the Tahiti of the Society Islands is meant). Then they all went together to the settlement. While on the way, the men said to the strangers, “When you see our women, behave in an unbecoming way; you must not laugh, for if you do they will surely kill you.”

The natives of that island lived in a very low state of civilization; they did not even know the fire. When the food was brought, the strangers found that it was the raw meat of the hair-seal, and they could not eat it; but the natives ate it as their ordinary food. The women in their uncivilized state, behaved very unbecomingly, and carried besides, formidable flint weapons. But the strangers did not laugh, and, therefore, were not killed. By and by the strangers began to rub their pieces of wood to produce fire. At first the people looked at them with curiosity, but when there arose a smoke, and when a strong smell of burning reached their noses, then all began to howl an enchantment, to protect themselves against the ghost, which, in their opinion, the strangers were conjuring up. Their howling went on. “Piopio, sea by the eastward, what brought thee here to my sea by the land ? Get up, go! “The two strangers went on with their friction. When the chaffings were ignited, they wrapped them in dry grasses, and waved the same about to fan it into flame, and then they lighted a fire. The natives all the time kept up their howling, “Piopio, sea by the east-wind, what brought thee here to my sea by the land? Get up, go!” Meanwhile the two strangers had dug a small pit, put dry wood over it and stones on the top, and then set it on fire. When the wood was burned up, and the stones, being now red-hot, had fallen into the pit, they wrapped the raw meat of the seal in wet grass, and, having first raked some of the hot stones, out, they placed the parcel of meat on those hot stones which were left in the pit; then they put the other hot stones on the top, more wet grass over the same, and then covered up the whole with earth. Now they sat down and waited for the meat to be cooked. The natives all the time looked at the steaming heap, and howled their enchantment. When the meat had been steaming long enough, the oven was opened. Then there arose a fragrant steam, and when the appetizing smell reached the noses of the natives, they stopped howling, and exclaimed, “What a nice smell!” And the cooked meat looked so tempting. Then all relished the meal, the natives remarking, “Now, for the first time, we eat cooked food!” “Yes,” said the strangers, “you are strange animals, living on uncooked food; you are not like human beings.”

After this the natives told them that there was one evil they were suffering from, namely, a monstrous bird, which ate people. They asked if the

son went to his father's private house, and, resting his arms and chin upon the sill of the window opening, looked in. The father was uttering an invocation, and, when he had finished, the son said, “Our mother is gone away with Tutekoropanga.” Again the father repeated an invocation, and then went to the house of his children. Here they all had a long cry, and, when they had done, the father asked, “Why has your mother forsaken you?” “Because,” answered the children, “you are sb plain looking. Our mother liked Tutekoropanga better, because he is such a handsome man.” The father then said, “Stay here quietly with your brother.” Then he went away, determined to see his ancestors, who had departed this life, and were living in the nether world, and to ask them to make him handsome.

While he is on his way thither, it may not be out of place to give here a short description of what the Maoris thought of a life after death, before Christianity was introduced. It could not be called a belief, because they were not interested in it. It was but a vague conception, and none of the old wise men could give a clear description of the same. The following, however, may be taken as a general summary. When people died, their souls went to a place called the Reinga, somewhere under the earth, but not identical with the Po, which latter seems to have been a more ancient idea, and the abode of superior gods and very great chiefs. The Reinga was surrounded by hills, having a lake in the centre, round which, on the banks, the departed dead lived again in their bodily shapes. When a soul arrived, she alighted first on the top of one of the hills, and waited till observed from below. Then some one would call up, “Dost thou belong to me ?” If not, the soul would shake her head; but, if asked by a parent or relation, then she would throw her head back as a sign of yes. Then she would be asked to hover down, and when she reached the ground, she would be again in her former bodily shape. Rank, of course, would be respected; but there was no reward or punishment for good or bad deeds done here; yet there were stages. People died there again, and then passed on to another stage; and somewhere there was a passage through which they must go. Here stood two great spirits, called Tuapiko and Tawhaitiri, one on each side of the passage, bending over towards one another, and between them the departed soul had to pass. A light soul would fly through swiftly and escape, but a heavy and clumsy one would be cauight by the two spirits, and destroyed. Dying again, and passing from stage to stage, it is not clear if some at last landed in the Po; but some, at least, when they had passed through about ten stages, made their appearance again in our upper world, some in the shape of blue-bottle flies, and some as candle-moths (the latter are still called “wairua tangata,” man soul); this was

the last existence of common man. There were other spirits residing in our world; if they had ever been men or not, is not clear; some of them, called atua ^* (the term is now used for God), would attach themselves to some men, and be their familiar spirits. But there were also cannibal spirits, called ngingongingo (or Rikoriko), who dwelt in the ruins of deserted houses and villages, and would creep into the living, when such came too near them, and eat up their insides, till their bodies wasted away and died. ^†

We must now return to Tama in our tale. It appears that in the first stages of the Reinga, the ancestors could, in certain conditions, still be visited by the chiefs of their living descendants. Tama met on his way with a white heron (kotuku), and, borrowing his shape, he flew and alighted on the bank of the lake in the Reinga. Here he was observed by his ancestors, Tuwhenua and Tumaunga, and their daughter Te Kohiwai. They looked at the bird, which was going along the margin of the lake, stretching its long neck, and picking up food. They remarked, “That is something new in our place. There are eight (or, as the Maoris generally counted by twos, sixteen) bends in its neck !” At last it struck them that it might be their descendant, Tama. Then they told Te Kohiwai to make a charm called a tamatane, used to find out the identity of a person, and go and throw it at the bird. She did so, and it fastened at once on its neck. Then she led the bird to Tama's ancestors, and, on arriving there, he had regained his human shape. Looking at his ancestors, he was struck by their extraordinary beauty—they were tatooed.

When the first greetings were over, the ancestors asked Tama, “What has brought you here?” “The treasure of your ornaments,” he replied. “I wish to be made handsome.” They consented to his wish, and drew gracefully curved lines over his face and body. But not long after, when he went and bathed, it came all off, and he complained that it did not last like theirs. Again the lines were drawn upon him, but these, likewise, did not last. “How is it,” said Tama, “that your tatoo lasts, and mine does not last ?” “Ah,” said they,

“that is death right out.” “But you are alive.” “O yes; one can live through it, but it is as bad as death.” However, it was at last agreed that it should be done. The instruments were sharpened and the pigment got ready. Then he was laid down, and the operation commenced. It was long and painful, and he often fainted. When his breath returned, he could only faintly say, “O, Taka; O, Ha ! I am very bad.” Then the operator would reply, “It is not I, it is the instrument that causes the pain.” However, after many days of painful operation, the work was at last finished. Then he was carried into the house, and laid before the fire. After two or three days he felt better. Then the sores began to fall off, and by and by he found himself having been made a handsome man. He went to the water and bathed, but his tatoo did not wash off. After some time he said to his ancestors, “Now I want to go back to my children.” Then they gave him some presents, consisting of rotu, puairuru, and pokeka-Kekie. The rotu is described as a flower, or the extract of a flower, of great virtue. May the name of the lotus flower have been carried by the Maori ancestors even so far as New Zealand ?

Tama came safely back to his children. He stayed with them a short time, and then one morning he told them that they must again stay quietly at home, and that he would go and try and find their mother. Then he disguised his newly acquired beauty with dirt and ashes, and made himself look like a mean man. He armed himself with a maipi (a long weapon, having at the point a defiant tongue carved), and a sharp flint; he took also some of the sweet odours with him. So he started on his fresh adventure, repeating an invocation, to counteract the spell which Tutekoro-panga had laid on his way. It was a prayer that the mountains and other obstacles might move aside to afford him a passage. By and by he came to a large forest full of impenetrable thorns and brambles and other obstacles; but he bent the thorns and brambles with his maipi, and then cut their strained parts with his sharp flint, and so forced his way through. At last, after a great deal of tiresome labour, he arrived on open ground, and, when near Tutekoropanga's place, he fell in with a company of people who were breaking firewood. When they saw him, and taking him for a straying poor man, they called out, “There is a slave for us !” “Don't, don't,” said Tama. And looking so tired and miserable, the people said, “No, we will not load him with firewood.” Then, keeping to them, the people told him that they were getting firewood, in order to make bright fires in the evening, for Rukutia, the wife of Tama, whom Tutekoropanga had taken away from him, was to dance before them, and they wished to light the house up with bright fires, so that Rukutia could display the features of her face (her grinning) to the best of advantage.

It was now getting evening, and Tama went with the wood-carriers into the large house, and sat down by a post. The fires were lighted, the people assembled, and Rukutia was called for. Tutekoropanga handed her an ornamented apron to tie round her hips. When she was coming forth to begin her performance, Tama prayed that her eyes might run with water. No sooner had she begun to distort her face (a main feature in that sort of dance) when her eyes began to run with watery tears, and she had to squat down to dry them. Again she stood up, again Tama repeated his prayer, and again she sat down to wipe her eyes. After some more trials, the people began to murmur, “What is the matter with Rukutia that her eyes so run. It used not to be so.” Then Tutekoropanga became angry, and beat Rukutia, and she cried. Then the fires were left to go out; the people dispersed; and those, who slept in the house, Tama charmed into a deep sleep. By and by, when the house was quite dark, Tama opened some sweet odour, which he carried under his arm-pits. The odour partly awoke Rukutia, who said, “O thou sweet smell of rotu ! Dost thou come from Tama, my husband? “Then Tama shut up that odour, and opened another parcel, which contained an abominable stench, and Rukutia said, “O what a bad smell! The house is full of stink.” Then he shut that up and waited a while, and then opened the mokimoki, when Rukutia exclaimed, “O thou sweet odour ! Doest thou come from Tama, my husband?” By this time Tutekoropanga had waked up, and said roughly, “What a nonsense! Can Tama get over my spells and come here ?” To this Rukutia replied, “To my impression, the eyes of the mean looking man appeared to be those of my husband.” When all were fast asleep again, Tama stole quietly out of the house, went to the water, and gave himself a thorough washing, so that his tatoo shone forth handsomely; then he tied up his hair, and dressed himself in a gentlemanly fashion, and went back to the house, and sat down outside close by the door. Now he pronounced a charm, to the intent that Rukutia might want to come out. It was not long when the door was opened, and Eukutia came out. He pulled her gently by the dress, when she looked round, and there sat Tama, her husband, and now, O so handsome! “O, my own husband,” she said, “let us flee together.” “No,” said he, “you stay here with that husband of yours.” “O take me away with you,” she begged. “This is a bad man, he always beats me. I cannot live with him. Take me away with you.” “No,” said he, “it was for my ugliness you left me for Tutekoropanga. Stay here. But one fine morning, when you see my shining sail on the sea, then climb upon the whata, rouse all the people, and call, ' There is Tama, my husband.'” Then he went away and left her there.

When Tama got back to his own place, he prepared for a voyage. He

evening there was an assembly of pleasant company. Then every one of the brothers made himself agreeable to a female partner, and every one of them asked his partner quietly to tell him which of them was the renowned Rorongarahia. The answer to every one was:—"Tell no one. I myself am Te Rorongarahia.” So, every brother believing he had won the affection of the most renowned lady, kept the secret. But they were all deceived. The beautiful Roronga was a modest girl, and did not mix with the rude young folks. She was quietly staying at home, with her waiting maid, in her own private house.

When Ruruteina had finished carrying the luggage he went to fetch some water, and, seeing some children playing at spinning tops, he asked them to show him the road to the well.” “There,” they said, “that road, passing close by the house of Te Roronga.” “So,” he said, “is that the house of Te Roronga?” “Yes.” Now, in the evening, while his brothers were amusing themselves in the village house, Ruru paid his visit to Te Roronga. He was kindly received and friendly entertained by that beautiful lady. However, he left by time, and when, later in the night, his brothers came home to the store-house, which was their temporary lodging, they found him sleeping on the luggage. This went on for several days and evenings. One day he heard his brothers say that next morning they were to start for home before daybreak. Now, by this time, Ruru and Te Roronga had already fallen desperately in love with each other, and she had consented to go with him. So, in the evening, while his brothers were amusing themselves with their partners in the village house, Ruru conducted his ladylove and her handmaid into his private cabin in the canoe, and then went and laid down on the luggage, where his brothers found him when they came home. Then their things were carried on board, and a little before day-break, when they embarked, it was found that every one of the elder brothers had a female companion. All got on board, and then sailed away; no one suspecting Ruru of having ladies hidden on board.

On their voyage home, they had to land at a certain place to wait for a change of wind. They went ashore and tried to get fire, but could not succeed. However, a smoke was seen at some distance, and Ruru was told to go there and fetch fire. He did not want to go, fearing some one might open his cabin; but they made him go. Now, at the place where the smoke had been seen there lived a great lady, whose name was Te Ngarara-huarau. When Ruru came to her house, he saw her two maid-servants, called Kioreti and Kioreta. The lady heard them talking and asked, “Who is there?” “Ruru,” answered the servants. “What is he come for?” “To fetch fire?” “Let him stay for the meal,” called the lady. So, when the meal was served, the lady herself made her appearance. Ruru was

disgusted, for she wore a dress with an enormous long skirt trailing behind her, and, when he tried to get away, she entangled him in its folds, and not only that, but she had draggled it also over the food, and covered the same with dirty lizard-scales. ^* When the meal was over, the lady withdrew, and then Ruru asked the servants, “Is she always so?” “Yes,” said the servants. “But do you think she is human?” “No, indeed; she is a monster.” Hereupon the lady, who had overheard the conversation, screamed “I will kill you.” Then the servants told Ruru to make his escape while they themselves ran and hid themselves under some rocks. Ruru ran, and Te Ngararahuarau called after him, “Ruru come back; Ruru come back.” And when she found that he would not come back, she screamed, “You may not see me in a fair day; but, let there be a misty day, and I will be with you. When Ruru came to his brothers, he told them what an adventure he had had, and that he was afraid she would pursue him there. Then all agreed that they would kill her. For that purpose they constructed a rude house, with a small window opening at the back. In the middle of the house they placed a wooden post, which they dressed up so as to resemble Ruru. Then there happened to be a misty day, and Te Ngarara made her appearance, calling, “Ruru where are you?” “Here,” he answered, from behind the image inside the house. Te Ngarara went in, and mistaking the post for Ruru, encircled it with the drabbletail of her dress. Then, hearing a busy noise outside, she asked: “Ruru, what means that?” Ruru answered, “Only your brothers-in-law making a meal for us.” But they were heaping fagots round the house, and blocking up the door, and then set it on fire all round. Ruru made his escape through the back opening. The house was seen enveloped in a sheet of flame; Te Ngarara was stifled with dense smoke, and she cried, “O, Ruru, you are forgetting me!” Now, while the monster was perishing in the flame, the scales of her skin tried tried to escape; but the people were watching round the burning house, with sticks in their hand, and threw back the scales, as they rushed out, into the fire. Only two scales escaped, all the rest perished with the monster.

I cannot give the uncivilised Maori credit of weaving a moral in their fable; but think civilization might draw one out of it with some advantage. If foolish pride, which prompts people to a display of vain show in a general, and to distorting the human form in a particular bearing, could be killed, then a few scales which might escape—if their breeding be kept in proper bounds—would be harmless and would be allowed to live.

At last, the wind being fair, they started again, and arrived at their

party gone, and the canoe was out of sight. Then she called her dogs, which for some time sniffed about seaward, and at last indicated the direction Paowa had taken. Now she girded up her breath; put some kura, which contained great power of witchcraft, under both of her armpits, and then dived into the sea. By virtue of the kura she was enabled to shoot along under the water to a great distance with great speed. She bobbed up her head and saw the canoe, but a great way ahead of her. Again she dived, and shot along a great distance; she bobbed up her head again, and found that she had gained considerably on the canoe. When next she dived and came up again, she was so near that she was perceived by Paowa and his crew. They paddled with all their might; but soon came to the conclusion that escape by sea was impossible. So Paowa made for the shore, jumped out, and sent the canoe on with the crew. He took refuge in a cave, pursued by the witch; but the latter found on her arrival the entrance already barricaded by Paowa. She sat down and scratched at the stones. Paowa made a fire in the cave and heated some stones. At the same time he roasted also a piece of nice food, and then asked: “Well, old woman; how are you?” “I am here,” she answered. “There is a morsel of food for you,” said Paowa, handing her a nice bit between the stones. She took it, and having eaten it, she said, “Well, my grandson, that was a nice morsel.” “You shall have more,” said Paowa, “just shut your eyes and open your mouth.” She did so, and then Paowa pushed a red-hot stone down her throat, upon which she fell down and died. Then Paowa went out, and when he touched her body there were flashes of lightning from under the armpits. Then he found that there she had hid her kura, and he took it all away.

Paowa was now provided with excellent powers of witchcraft, but he was in difficulties how to get home, his canoe was gone, and there being no way over land. However, he must manage by witchcraft. So he got into a log of wood, rolled into the sea, and let the wind drive him home.

The canoe had reached safely home, but the men, making quite sure that Paowa had been killed by the witch, told the people that he was dead. Then a time of great mourning was agreed upon. The people came together; some cried, while others cooked, and some others carried firewood. When the latter were busy collecting firewood near the sea, Paowa's log of wood was washed on the shore near them. They rolled it up on high and dry ground, but found it too heavy and too wet to carry it home; so they left it there; they did not know that there was a man inside. When they were gone, Paowa came out, went away and hid his kura, which contained such wonderful virtue of charms. Then he disguised himself, so that he looked like a mean old man, and then he went into the village, and sat down

occasion to call the mother, his daughter-in-law, to come quickly and take the baby away, and to wipe his knees. The mother did both, and laughed. This had been observed by others, who talked about it, till it grew into a tale of indecencies. When old Whiro heard of that, he was so vexed, that he resolved to emigrate. For that purpose he made a canoe, and when the planks on the upper rim were lashed on, the string got round the neck of the man who was pulling on the other side, and, at the same time, Whiro pulled on his side, and the man was killed, if by accident or with intention, is not clear. Whiro buried him under the chips, and said nothing about it. The man was missed and sought, but not found till the time when the canoe was being dragged to the sea. Then, while the people were dragging, their feet moved the chips, and the dead man was found. Then the people said that Whiro had killed him. This made him still more gloomy, and he now resolved to sail away on the wide sea to death. He persuaded a man named Tura to accompany him, but did not tell him that it was a voyage to death. Tura left his wife and a son named Iraturoto at home.

When they were sailing along, they met Tutatahou and Rokotakawhiu. These seem to have been some sort of spiritual beings. Tutatahou called, “Whose canoe is that?” One of the crew answered, “A canoe of supernatural beings;” and for that presumption he was killed, as by lightning. Again Tutatahou called, “Whose canoe is that?” and again one of the men answered, “A canoe of supernatural beings” (atua). He also was killed. Then, being asked the third time, Tura said, “It is Whiro's canoe,” adding some explanation (the meaning of which I do not understand, nor could the wise men explain). Then they were allowed to pass on.

Now Tura began to have misgivings as to how their voyage would end, and he suspected Whiro to mean to sail out of the world. When they came to a place called Otea, they passed so near the land that Tura could lay hold of some overhanging branches of the bushes. He held fast and let Whiro go on with his canoe, to death. Tura climbed up the bushes; but the place was not inhabited. He went on travelling in the direction homeward, and after many days he came to a settlement, but it was inhabited by a strange race of people, called the generation of Nukumaitore. Their heads, arms, and legs were so short and so much shrunken into their bodies, that they seemed to have no limbs at all. They were sitting on the tuwhara fruit of the kiekie tree, slowly waving their hands on their short arms. Tura claimed the hospitality of an old woman (always a good policy when one comes among savages), and she befriended him. By and by she also gave him a wife. The people there lived on raw food; they did not know the fire. When Tura made a fire, they all ran away into

of building stones generally, with special reference to the causes that lead to decay, and the means of preventing it. The principal bases of stones are silica, alumina, and lime. As can readily be inferred from the most superficial knowledge of these earths, the hardest and most durable stones are those in which the former predominates, many of them, such as granite and basalt, being indestructible. The building stones most subject to decay are sand and limestones. In the former, it is caused chiefly by the mechanical action of winds, rains, and frosts; and in the latter, by these and chemical agency combined. Sandstone is composed almost entirely of silica or quartz grains, or dust cemented together by lime, alumina, magnesia, or iron, and sometimes by a combination of two or more of these minerals. As the particles of quartz are, like the stones already mentioned, practically indestructible, the durability of sandstone depends entirely on the cementing material. When this is nothing but alumina or clayey matter, the stone is of an inferior quality, that base being deficient in adhesive properties, and generally soluble in water. The stone is therefore peculiarly susceptible to the action of the weather. The presence of an undue preponderance of clayey matter in sandstone may be detected by washing small pieces in water. If a large muddy residium is given, the specimen should be rejected as perishable. Craig Leith sandstone, the best in Great Britain, contains—

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Caversham stone, on the other hand, contains—

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The reddish sandstones generally contain iron in considerable quantities; when the iron is naturally in a low state of oxidation, the stone has a tendency to decay on exposure. Change from wet to dry seems to prevent rather than assist the cementing process. But when the iron is highly oxydized, and the whole a perfectly homogeneous and compact mass, the

stone is not affected by the changes of the weather, and may, therefore, be taken as durable.

Sandstone was deposited under water and hardened by pressure and drying, consequently it has a distinct natural bed. The stone is often of such a uniform colour and consistency that the lines of stratification are quite invisible, and as the stratum may not have retained its originally horizontal position, the mere inspection of a specimen in a museum or of a block in a quarry will not give the bed of the stone. It is, however, easily determined by the quarrymen, from the facility of working in a certain direction as compared with others.

As a general rule, sandstones are hardest and most compact when found at the lower side of a thick stratum, or in the vicinity of basaltic dykes, or other volcanic rocks that may have disturbed them. The facilities for drainage afforded by the lie of the adjoining land has also considerable influence on the consistency of the softer sedimentary rocks.

In building with stones from stratified rocks, it is absolutely necessary that they be laid on their natural bed. A disregard for this rule is the sole cause of decay in a large majority of cases where buildings have failed. When the stones are placed in an inclined position, they afford the greatest facility for absorbing moisture, and when vertical, the superincumbent weight has a tendency to split them. The latter evil is often greatly aggravated by a practice that exists among masons of working the beds slightly hollow, so as to ensure a neat joint.

The appearance of some of our soft stone buildings fully bears out the above remarks, as to the necessity of laying stones on their natural bed; some of them are smooth and solid after many years exposure, while others from the same quarry, and under exactly the same conditions, are in an advanced state of disintegration. This state of affairs could be prevented by simply marking the stones in the quarries where the lines of stratification are easily determined, and generally well known. Independent of the increased durability, it is advisable to lay all stones on their natural bed, for they are a fourth stronger in that position than in any other.

Calcareous stones are less subject to decay from the mechanical action of the weather than sandstone, but more susceptible to chemical agencies. As the cementing material is always the same, the durability depends entirely upon the aggregates, and the proportions in which they are mixed. The compact and crystalline limestones are believed to be unstratified, consequently they are not liable to exfoliation, and may be used in any position; but some of the softer kinds give indications of having been deposited in horizontal layers, in which case it is necessary to build with the stone on its natural bed. Although limestone is generally more

compact than sandstone, it absorbs more water; but, on the other hand, the water affects it much less than sandstone. The compactness of limestone seems to keep the water from freezing, and so neutralizes its most powerful disintegrating property. All the softer limestones are hardened by exposure to the atmosphere; at the same time the atmosphere contains the elements of their destruction. The indurating process is not, as is sometimes supposed, attributable to the absorption of carbonic acid from the atmosphere, like the setting of mortar. The lime in the stone, being already a carbonate, cannot in this way absorb more of the acid. The hardening on exposure is caused entirely by the evaporation or drainage of the moisture contained in the pores of the stone.

The ingredients in the atmosphere that have the most deleterious effect on stones are muriatic and sulphuric acid, both of which have an affinity for lime, and combine readily with it, thus rendering the stone soluble in water. The former acid is always present in the atmosphere near the sea, and the latter in manufacturing towns, where coal is burnt. All the softer limestones are more or less subject to the pernicious effects of both these acids, and when magnesia enters into their composition, they are particularly susceptible to the action of sulphuric acid. The English Houses of Parliament are built of magnesian limestone, from the Bolsover quarries in Derbyshire—its composition being as follows:—

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It is well known that this stone has been a decided failure; the buildings were not many years finished when they began to show symptoms of decay. This result is due entirely to the sulphuric acid with which the smoky atmosphere in London is impregnated. The selection of the Bolsover stone for such an important work is perhaps the most curious instance on record of the miscarriage of skill, experience, and good intention. The English Government, fully alive to the necessity of having the Houses of Parliament built of the best stone procurable, appointed a Scientific Commission for the purpose of enquiring into the qualities of the various building stones in Great Britain. The Commissioners were men of the highest standing, whether as regards their disinterestedness or scientific attainments; they had carte blanche to examine, enquire into, and experiment on every stone in the kingdom, in short their instructions appear to have

simply been “select the best.” After a long, laborious, and expensive investigation, and with the best possible intentions, the Commissioners selected “the magnesian limestone, or dolomite of Bolsover,” one of the most worthless stones for the purpose in Great Britain. The sole reason for this untoward conclusion is in the fact that, at that time, the peculiar affinity of magnesian lime for sulphur was unknown, and the Commissioners had the strongest possible proof of the durability of the stone in Southwell Minster, where it had withstood the action of the weather for 800 years. This was, however, in the pure air of a small country town—a condition that differs materially from that which the material occupied when exposed to the smoky and acidulous atmosphere of the metropolis.

Tests.—Except in rare cases, such as the arches of a long-spanned bridge, and the lower courses in a spire or chimney, the pressure on stones in a building never approaches their crushing weight; their cohesive properties may, therefore be disregarded in a popular investigation like the present one. I shall, however, consider shortly the proofs or tests of durability that should be observed in building with freestones.

Generally speaking the hardest, heaviest, and least absorbent stones in a class such as sand and limestone are the best; but this is no criterion when comparing classes. In sandstones the chemical test is the maximum amount of silica, and minimum of alumina; the proportions of the other ingredients being within certain limits apparently of no consequence. The best limestones are those that approach nearest the crystalline state; uniformity of tint and homogeneity of structure are also favourable indications. So far as strength and beauty, as well as durability under ordinary circumstances are concerned, the magnesian limestones are best when the lime and magnesia are in equal proportion. This, however, as already shown, seems the worst proportion for a smoky town.

The absorbent properties of stones can be tested by subjecting them to the action of water under a slight pressure. With 14 lbs. on the square inch English Sandstones absorb from one-seventh to one-fourth of their entire bulk; Limestones, one-ninth to one-fifth; Oolites and Dolomites one-fifth to one-fourth.

The resistance of stone to disintegration can be tested by what is called Brard's process; this consists in boiling specimens in a solution of sulphate of soda (Glauber's salts) and afterwards dipping them at intervals into the cold solution for a few days. The action of this salt closely resembles that of frost, and M. Vieat has calculated that the effect, after two days' application, is equal to the force exerted by frost at 21° Far. on wet stone. The hardest granite is segregated by Brard's process in thirty days.

Syenite, as you are aware, differs from true granite only in so far as it contains hornblende instead of mica. As mica and felspar are considered the perishable ingredients in these rocks, the durability of syenite can never be questioned; it is also on the whole tougher and more compact than ordinary granite. This stone i